


So It Had Come To This

by Abnegation



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Family Issues, Love, Marriage, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 54,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25084405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Abnegation/pseuds/Abnegation
Summary: Raquel, with the award-winning television news she associated in directing, had to make a choice that affected her husband's anxiety, which was to take a path that was starkly different from the career she had been excellent at.Sergio was a rising critically-acclaimed producer, and he felt as if everything in his life wasn't enough.And it pretty much caused some repercussions on their once-solid marriage that they were fixing little by little.
Relationships: Raquel Murillo/Professor | Sergio Marquina
Comments: 132
Kudos: 236





	1. Prologue (Vows)

**Author's Note:**

> this random plot came to my mind as I was reading a novel. i thought it would make a good story for you guys to indulge in. hope you enjoy as much as i did writing it
> 
> find me on twitter: @witchmurillo

_“Raquel, I don't know how many times I rehearsed this last night because of stage fright but yeah, uh, here it is...Raquel, when I first met you in the antique shop, we were eyeing for the same polaroid camera. I wanted to take it home to my collection. Little did I know you wanted it, too. Instead, I brought the both of you home [distinguishable laughter]. You were my reason back then, my reason now, my reason every day. You are my strength, my only one. I have never been in love before. But thank God for that, because the only one I see myself being in love with is you. I don't know where life leads me to, but I just know you will be there—and you will always be there—because I give you my trust and everything that my heart can offer. This is where I am meant to be—in your arms, for better or for worse."_

《》

_"I can't believe we're here now, haha. I'm sorry—okay, okay. I'm fine. Sergio, my love, you made me see life in a different color. My life back then was just black and white, but you shone through my walls, and I have never felt so blissful and whimsical. When I met you, life has never been the same. You are my best friend, my confidant, the one who pushed me to do my best in everything that I do. And I'm so proud of you and how you held it all together for the both of us. There are so many uncertainties in life, so many horrors, but I am willing to face them as long as I am with you. Now I vow my life to yours, and I will stick with you through it all. Like you said, for better or for worse. Sergio, estoy contigo."_

_~_


	2. Avoidance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you will never expect this fic to be written by a sad kid who has always been angst-driven in life. but is it is, believe me. i somehow have the pleasure to deliver such unconventional theme to my readers. but don't worry this mood shall pass once you proceed to the next chapters, which will be out soon.
> 
> this story contains a lot of hardships and i hope all of you are willing to face them with raquel and sergio. i also hope everyone's been having a great time. enjoy!

Florescent lights hovered from the ceiling of the mahogany-paneled office where Sergio Marquina was working. His mind was racing with a million familiar sequences he had calculated, his gaze still on the slightly-brightened laptop screen, his fingers knowingly flying at the keyboard, with faltering sounds singing out from his corner of the room. 

He wrote as if being chased by the fugitive he was writing about, all quick and harsh. He glanced at the clock and fixed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, which was one of the few moments he had to break himself with writing. A travel thermos where he contained his coffee sat dangerously on the edge of the table, but he didn’t seem to care. He had to make last-minute changes to the sequence of the show before they would proceed to shoot. 

That night, it was just him and his narratives. It was still a delightful time for him, no matter how much it deprived him of peaceful slumber. He loved the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he sprinted with time. He was living the life of the originator of one of the highest-grossing shows on television, and he needed to keep it running to the top because this was his pride, the chef-d'oeuvre that kept him on his toes for almost four years. 

_The Runaway Debutante_ was brought to scratch pages when he was eaten alive by constant boredom after his daytime soap was canceled and he was back to square one. With fortune’s grace, he returned. He wrote about a filthy rich dysfunctional family having a son who pulled some strings to rob his own father to donate the money to charity and the homeless, took his dad’s colleagues on the chaotic gyre with him, and extended his influence to other debutante dropouts. 

As crazy as it was, the audiences seemed to love a contemporary twist to Robin Hood. After three seasons, the ratings sky-rocketed as it took resilient political turns. He couldn’t ask for more, but _more_ of _that_ kind of success.

The fourth season was in the works, and Sergio was having a hard time working on the twists. He wanted to surprise the viewers, as he always had in the previous parts. Nevertheless, he couldn’t give up on his life’s work. He had already secured a throne in the industry after ten blockbuster films, but that was just the surface of his passion. This time, he went deeper into it and didn’t give up.

He was a communications graduate at Stanford, took additional courses on film, had an internship for five months in L.A., became a production assistant at MLA Channel, and eventually worked his way up to being a producer and screenplay writer. He was able to catch a big break through his former supervisors and had his debut in the industry at twenty-five, then a surge of huge projects and accolades had followed through the years. It was all evident from the way elaborate trophies were lined on his shelf, glimmering as if to remind anyone who would walk into his office how far he had come and how he was compelled to keep it up until the present and the following years, as he had intended. 

It was the prospect of being controlled that he hated. Looking back at his early years of high school, he had been directed by his father to such paths to a high-end life with a job far more certified than the one he had, leaving no space for the craft he enjoyed the most. But he got past that occurrence of exasperation since his father died. Although it broke him deeply, he still chose to abandon the career his dad wanted for him.

Once he got to the point of his life when he was finally free from restrictions, he had lived the rest of it planning every detail for the future, but nights like this defeat the purpose of deliberating everything. Still, he was strategic enough to keep up with his principles because of his obsession with life’s predictable intricacies that he translated to occasional plot developments for his shows. This was his life. 

It made Andres de Fonollosa fulfilled because he had seen how much Sergio had gone through to set such a distance from his struggles. He was a distinguished womanizer and a divorcee of five, which was comical, apparently, for he himself was a divorce lawyer. He stuck being Sergio’s best friend – almost like his brother – from day one; when they met at his favorite library eleven years ago under stressful circumstances that they refused to talk about. 

Andres had such an adequate amount of self-importance enough to fill in anyone’s almost empty cup. He had so much control over his life, but not as much as Sergio had over his. He understood the younger man, knowing he just got off from such commitment to his father’s desires when he went to college. 

When they were young, he was dreadfully lean, pale, and most likely to collapse anytime. Sergio was just the same back then, with his being workaholic even when he was just an apprentice, barely having time for shaving and getting a haircut. It was great to witness him change ever since he settled down with Raquel and Paula, ever cautious of his timetable; if he had worked too much or had spent a lot of time outside the bubble of his little family. 

But he wasn’t happy from what he had seen from his best friend over the past week. He had considered his tired eyes, dark disheveled hair, and his posture getting caught off-guard for a well-acclaimed writer and producer. Andres couldn’t tell him yet but he was afraid of how that alone could affect the people he loved the most.

Right now, he was out of the picture. While Sergio was busy with his script, Andres was preparing for yet another case somewhere in the Bronx. They were even too busy to call each other. 

Sergio jolted as he heard a series of buzzes from his drawer and let out a sigh, unwillingly turning away from the screen to his phone. 

_(10:24 p.m.) You coming home? Paula misses you._

_(10:24 p.m.) Sergio._

_(10:24 p.m.) Don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter in your office again._

He drew back his head to his seat as he adjusted his glasses, his expression shifting into something that reflected remorse and longing from what once was an adrenaline-induced grin. It was Raquel Murillo, the prosperous associate director of the eight o’clock news, the love of his life, and the mother of his only child. 

But right now, he wasn’t sure what state their marriage was in. 

...

_It was past midnight and they hadn’t gone to sleep yet. Sergio slumped his back on the headboard, unsure what to do with his wife beside him that was furiously typing on her phone. Apparently, she had to attend to an issue with one of the assistant producers, at least from what he had inferred from her phone call in the shower earlier that night._

_Their nightlight was on, illuminating just enough portion of their room for them to see each other. He turned to face her. His gaze slid from how the bags under her eyes carried a lot of pressure that strained her from getting enough tranquility in her life, to how the length of her golden hair still luxuriously cascaded on her shoulders – giving a stark contrast to her current state. She had lost a lot of weight from fatigue; as seen from her thinning figure._

_She was the most hard-working woman he had ever met, and he loved her so much he couldn’t handle seeing her so vulnerable from one of the things that made her strong as well. He had the urge to gently grab her wrist, take her phone away, and just feel her against his skin. He wanted to hold her for the rest of the night, wake up next to her, and have a small chat in bed before they take their morning shower. He wanted to talk to her, but he knew she would be too tired to even kiss him good night and it upset him because she had a temperamental attitude whenever she got overworked._

_To his surprise, he felt her hand on his from under the covers. She looked as if she was holding back something. He squeezed it, letting her know it was alright. The last thing he wanted was to give her so much pressure to feel the need to say something. Her work had done enough of that._

_She hesitated then took a deep breath, “I’m sorry I’ve been a little withdrawn.”_

_He slid down and snuggled next to her, resting his head to her chest. She played with his hair, which soothed him a bit. He was glad he was able to be close to her again. He understood that she recently filled in for the director and handled the transitions that the network had to face for the sake of a better image. He was proud of her and how she somehow held it together even with exhaustion._

_“I want to get a production job on a TV series,” he heard her say, and he could feel how her voice pulsated to his ear from her chest. For a moment, he took it in. He craned his neck to look at her, suddenly confused. “What?”_

_She shrugged, “You know, leave the news, maybe go back to film or produce specials. Something like that. Maybe I can get some more free time to take care of Paula.”_

_“And if it gets canceled?”_

_She let go of him, not believing what he had just said. They settled on their own sides of the bed, the remains of the distance he thought they had departed from was back on track. “And here I thought you’d back me on this.”_

_He gaped at her and explained, “Raquel, the news doesn’t go away. It stays as long as it’s needed. What if the program gets pulled out and you’d be back to the unemployment line?”_

_“But you’re out there risking it, right? So, why can’t I?”_

_Sergio had always been like this. He hated uncertainty. The thought of her having the possibility of unstable engagements terrified him. He had been there before, so he knew the burden she could face. The network had a track record of pulling out shows that had received unsatisfactory ratings, so when his first soap had gone through such fate, he didn’t know what to do._

_It was his passion and he had worked hard for it, didn’t sleep just to finish the whole manuscript, and knocked on doors of executives to give out proposals. For it to be scratched out of the lineup was too much for him to take._

_It was Raquel who pulled him together; took care of him when he was too down to even attend to some appointments and talked him out of dejection. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to her. But that was before they got married. She was sure the ways around the network would have changed with such an amount of time when trends got afloat and new demands were entertained._

_Raquel turned to him with a look of realization on her face. “Is this about what happened eight years ago?”_

_He held out his hand. “Please trust me.”_

_“No,_ you _trust me.”_

_He could see she was really pissed but he went on. “You have a stable contract! What more can you ask for?”_

_“I don’t want to be in the news anymore,” she answered quietly, aware of how their little dispute could wake up Paula in the middle of the night. “It’s just too much for me.”_

_“Now that I’m thinking of wrapping up the series and taking a hiatus you pull yourself off your fat checks?”_

_“Sergio, are you worried about our financial situation?”_

_He nodded, and she softened a bit. She had probably grasped how he hit the rock bottom before, how she struggled to pull him out of it, and how it affected his mental state for weeks. But she was still insistent, telling him she didn’t want to hear any more from him._

_They both knew they were more than stable. They lived in a lavish condominium, managed to take Paula in a prep that was quite expensive, and afforded trips to Florence and Paris. They both made enough from their respective grinds. Money was the last thing they should be worried about._

_Sergio got out of the bed and paced around the room, running his hand all over his face. He stopped and rested his hands on his hips. “Why?”_

_She looked up at him and pulled her knees to her chest. A while ago, he was the one tucked in between them. Now, it felt like that moment never existed. “Look, I understand you don’t want me to go through what you’ve been through, but this might be the only chance for me to find myself.”_

_He demanded again, “Raquel, didn’t you tell me you were happy with your job in the news?”_

_“I was, but we have Paula now and-“_

_“Exactly!” He spoke in a hushed tone. “We have Paula now and we have to be steady as planned.”_

_“Planned? Sergio, we didn’t plan anything! It was all yours in the first place. Don’t you want to be on the loose for once?”_

_He shook his head._

_She closed her eyes and swallowed, forcing down the lump on her throat. “Do you care about me?”_

_He nodded, making his way to her side of the bed. “I do. So much.”_

_“Then stop making a bigger deal out of it than it needs to be.”_

_“Can’t you think of this when you’re in a better state?”_

_“When it’s the only way for me to achieve that better state you’re saying? No. I still know myself better than you do.”_

_“Like how you acted as if you know my pain more than I do and you decided to reduce it to something casual?”_

_“This isn’t about you and your goddamn ambition,” she was furious now, and it scared him that he forced himself not to retort anything until she would cool her head._

_There was silence for a long while, an unspoken discrepancy hung in the cold air. They sat on their respective sides of the bed, contemplation filling their heads. They’ve never had a fight like this in a long time. It was an astonishment to Sergio because they had always let some things slip from potential arguments as they thought it would be a waste of time._

_He took a glance at Raquel, who stood up to turn off the light. Tears barely made it out of her eyes, and he could see she was still fighting them. He wanted to let her cry, to vent it all out to him. But he had no clue on how to handle it when he was the reason why._

_She pulled the sheets up to her torso, and he mirrored the motion. She turned to her side as he watched the trembling rise and fall of her back. He huddled closer and wrapped an arm around her waist. She let him, and he concealed his face in her neck. But he could still feel the walls go up between them._

_“Why do you keep on seeing the worst-case scenario and refusing to look at the brighter side? I’m so tired…” she fuzzily uttered before she drifted off to sleep._

_He wasn’t sure if it was his overthinking but there was something in how she said it that made him feel like it wasn’t just work she was drained from._

  
  
...  
  
  


They hadn’t spoken to each other since that night, except for a few brief exchanges either about work or their daughter. Intermittently, she’d ask about what time he would come home so they’d know who could fetch Paula from school. He had asked her for the grocery list the other day, with which she courteously complied. They would kiss before they proceed to breakfast together, which was a gesture out of their subconscious since it became a habit. They would wake up and find themselves entangled in bed, but they'd break off from the contact once they would come to their senses.

And that was pretty much what their interactions were.

There were no early morning talks, no showers together, no sneaky lunch dates, no bedtime stories together before putting their daughter to bed, no movie nights, and no messing around the kitchen doing experiments with food during the weekend.

He missed her so badly, but he didn’t know how to make it up to her. This fight was different from the ones they have had over the years. He couldn’t face her, look into her eyes, and apologize. At least, not yet until he could figure out a plan. 

His only remedy was not to see her often. He couldn’t admit it to himself, but his work was definitely an excuse. He could finish it tomorrow, but he thought it would be better to polish everything tonight. 

Now she had decided to text him and told him their daughter missed him but did Raquel miss him, too? He wondered. Although the message wasn’t so affectionate from her, it was something. But it wasn't enough.

He replied, _Tell her Daddy will be home soon :))_

It pretty much summed up the replies he had in his head, though he wanted to tell her much more than that. But he needed to assess how she would act in response first. In the meantime, he still had to focus on his paper. 

That was when Monica came in with a stack of envelopes, her purse hanging from her shoulder. Her bright curls wildly sprang from her head, the same way it always did. She was a free and gentle spirit, which their co-workers admired the most about her. They had been friends for five years now, and she had always been there to assist him when needed. She was also one of Raquel’s friends from college. Sometimes they’d hang out, but he noticed with his wife’s schedule that they hadn’t seen each other for a long while now. She placed the envelopes on an unoccupied space of Sergio’s desk.

He looked up and acknowledged her presence, then went back to his laptop. “Thanks,” he mumbled, but it was enough for her to hear.

She hummed in response, then the stack slid down from the table, thudding on the carpeted floor. She bent down to fix it back to his desk. She studied him and how he fixated himself in front of the laptop. “You could use some coffee refill.” 

He scoffed, “Jesus, are you trying to kill me?”

She chuckled then grabbed his thermos, “Go get some sleep.”

“Sure, Mom,” he teased. 

She made a face then closed the door to his office. They had a pretty much casual and amusing friendship, and he was used to her motherly instincts, which she used on everyone in the office. She was also kind of a love expert; she knew when something was up between couples with just one look and pretty much knew the right things to say to repair them. No one knew how she’d do that, but she became useful to him and Raquel over the years. 

When she came back with his thermos filled up, he stared at her and pronounced his gratitude. “You should go home. I’m sure Denver will be mad.”

“You should, too. And no, he won’t be. He understands.”

He nodded. “How’s the wardrobe team?”

“Fine. I convinced them to not overspend. I want this production to be practical. Just as you requested.”

“That’s great,” he remarked as his fingers tapped with ease. 

She smiled at him and was about to close the door to his office when she called out his name. His head flung up, giving her an expectant look. 

“You have a wife to come home to. Don’t you ever forget.”

He sensed she was speaking up for Raquel, whom she knew to the core. He was probably wrong about them not seeing each other, because how could he knew when they barely spoke? Perhaps she had opened up to Monica, and as much as he didn’t want anyone else meddling between their problem, he knew damn well she was right. And it was just what he needed as an assurance. 

But still, he was afraid of how this would turn out for the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i would love to know what you think! please don't hesitate on leaving your thoughts below.


	3. Dusts Still Unsettled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you guys can reflect on something from this story. i’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts about this. ♡ this chapter is really personal to me so i hope you'll appreciate it.

"Chloe, please remind Kat to orient the interns tomorrow. We can't have another bunch roaming around the building like it's a maze. You know how much Mr. Collins hate that, yes?" The production assistant nodded at the request of the brown-haired woman in a cream pantsuit, who smiled and sent her a wink, "I'll go ahead." 

Chloe skittered away from her superior's corner office and left her struggling to turn off the AC with the probably-broken remote control. Indeed, the day was exhausting. She wanted to throw herself on the sofa and sleep but she needed to go home and take a shower.

There was an uneasiness that lingered after daring to go against her husband’s will and almost ruining their relationship. But as she kept her schedule demanding for a whole week, she swallowed it away. 

That night, Raquel Murillo took the sheaf of papers she had been checking through for tomorrow’s broadcast, helped herself with a bite of tuna sandwich – the only sustenance she had since breakfast – from the cafeteria in the main headquarters, dropped by the ladies’ room to fix her hair that was freshly unraveled from a No. 2 pencil, and made her way out of the news department in a firm pace, as if she meant business. Well, she did. She always had.

Just like her husband, she was a communications graduate at Stanford, which was the first step she took to becoming the well-esteemed A.D. of _NYC Tonight_ , a prominent news program in the city. She was the wife of a renowned Spanish-American producer, and she made a name for herself along with him in the industry. 

Back when she was just about half-way to her ambition, she solely focused on studying and internship, careful not to let anything intervene with her routines. She was thankful she hadn’t met her husband at that time because she would probably be in his pants instead of being cossetted in paperwork. 

She spent most of her life determined, driven with principles of punctuality and tiny showers of spontaneity. She was the kind that would show up an hour before the meeting starts, the one that would host wine parties if it would be too inconvenient for her to go out, the mother who would arrive at her daughter’s recitals even before the hall would get occupied, and the bride who was about three hours early to her wedding. 

Raquel enjoyed a little impulsiveness in her life as well. Once, she booked a table in a fancy restaurant for her anniversary with Sergio but made last-minute modifications and settled for a date on the rooftop of their office building instead. It was one of those sentiments she was fond of: him and the vast expanse of New York below their line of sight that encapsulated her in unconditional rightness. 

It was the same building she conquered, and the one she was walking out from after checking the new sequence for the next day. 

She passed a route of studios being vacated by prattling crews for tomorrow’s shoot, exchanging polite smiles with familiar faces. She pulled the sleeve of her blazer to check her wristwatch. She was sure Alicia had put Paula to sleep by now, as she would when both Raquel and Sergio would come home later than usual. _"I just want to spend some time with my favorite goddaughter. Let her stay the night in my apartment,"_ her friend had said, and Raquel had retorted, _"She's your only goddaughter, anyway,_ _and it's not like we're left with a choice."_

It somehow made her feel better from all the grim collapse of vigor inside her which she refused to clear in front of everyone. 

Ambling past a late-night show set that flickered with floodlights, she heard chatters about their new reporter silently combusting in tears inside the comfort room from a couple of interns whom she recognized were the ones she had accompanied in orienting just two days ago. It wasn’t her business but she made a mental note to check on the said correspondent to make sure she was getting on with her work from whatever the reason was that behind that demeanor of elastic poise and willpower, she cared. 

And beyond everything she had achieved and all the matters that made her who she was, there was a pain as excruciating as nothing she had ever felt before. She also needed to cope up, and being busy was her only way. 

Sergio was still on the other side of the building, probably wrapped around the clutches of his work. The thought of it might have sounded endearing, that they were on two different sides of the same world. But as their relationship had gradually backslid since their fight, it sounded so distant and wretched. 

"Well, shit," she mumbled to herself, realizing how much they had fucked up their lives. It was as if she needed a ten-foot pole to reach what once was a fairly decent marriage. 

Actually, it was more than that. They gave each other life and a whole lot of reasons to live it. Marriage was too ceremonial to even define what they had. It was the pure ecstasy of waking up next to each other, the contentment they had with their lifestyle, the parenting ethics they shared just to make Paula feel loved because she was and will always be, the friendship that defied destitutions that came on their way, and simply the way they loved as it came from a bright orb of non-perfect imaginative philosophies – but they made it so real even its most profound counterpart in words weren’t enough to describe it.

The most beautiful things in life are lived in a way that a mere word cannot eternalize, after all.

Now there was nothing but uncertainty and Paula standing in between them. 

Raquel had been feeling miserable all week and she couldn’t quite understand why they had to go through this. What she ought to be a self-redeeming vision turned out to be as bad for her and her husband as it could be best for her well-being. 

She loved her job and encompassed its range – even if it was Sergio’s idea – but she couldn’t bear with the forbidding approach the news had on her. 

The instances when they were too close to the terrors of murder, threats perpetrated by nature, and gruesome scandals that were too often she’d forget they would still have good news to cheer. But there was a certain consummation of a job being done well, and she did. Even one of the bright spectacles of it was seeing Sergio on the news with his latest productions, that her station would always get to cover it by default, and hopefully, he'd be on it again soon. 

When she was young, she confined herself to aim for either being a producer of a film or being a projecting figure in the news team. She was a production assistant in a couple of series before she had met Sergio, and she was so invested in the job until they got married and he had convinced her to apply to the news in hopes of making better money when they started a family. 

Raquel did it for Sergio and Paula. She did whatever it took to keep them at the right pace. She missed doing more inventive things though, with lighter hysterics and all. She missed driving their talents to sets every day, the irregular but exciting hours of hustle, having to wear layers of comfortable clothes to work, and being solidly invested into the production itself. The thought of doing something for herself might have been a good idea since her husband was now doing well in his line of business and they had more than enough to live. 

But she was disheartened by the fact that she lost control, and Sergio, by some means, took over. She was still mad at him, though she understood that his reaction was a drawback from his past. And he was right, considering the dread of low ratings that would yield to cancellations and the company’s lack of dynamics when handling such. 

Would he still consider a little change or even just a spare one? Raquel wondered. But she knew him well enough to know it was always in his cards to be decisive. 

If she told him she wasn’t going to have a change of heart, would he hurt her? No, that would be too unlikely for him. Would he leave her? She knew he wouldn’t, but could he? _What if..._

That was when it occurred to her that she could handle losing everything but him. She could have a detrimental career and lose her job or even herself, but she wouldn’t know what to do if the guards they took down for each other were slowly building themselves up and eventually break them apart. She could already feel it as the days went by, and she didn’t show it but it broke her. 

It wasn’t solely Raquel’s fault, but she started blaming herself. Maybe if she didn’t bring it up in the first place or if she had adjusted with her job on a proper note, they wouldn’t end up being so detached albeit completely aware of each other’s presence. 

He was the subsequent soul of her skin, but she could barely feel him. 

She wondered how she endured a week of scarcely talking and texting. He didn’t even ask her out to lunch and she hadn’t cooked him his favorite risotto – which she would do at least once a week. It was killing her but they couldn’t seem to bring themselves for a mere brief exchange.

All she knew was that she wasn't going to choose between him and her career. This was different. They had a daughter, and he wasn't just any man trying to fit into her life. He was _Sergio._ For Pete's sake, she wasn't the sixteen-year-old kid who had been dumping boys to secure her dream career. If she could manage both, then she'd have to leave herself no choice but to go for it. 

Raquel found herself in a sudden rush as something wavered in her head. She didn’t mind passing the hallways almost tearing up so she made her way to his office wing. It was half-past nine so he would still be there. If there was ever a chance for either of them to make it up to each other, this was it. She had to swallow her pride and even willed to choke on it as long as they were fine before they would call it a night. 

Sergio hated surprises, but she couldn't think of anything else other than him walking out of his office with her wearing an apologetic smile to finally make up to him, or for him to make up to her. 

_I’m sorry, you couldn’t handle it well._ But no, it wasn’t her fault he couldn’t – she knew that well. He was liable for that. She might have affected his emotions, but she didn’t do it at large. 

_I’m sorry, I was so stupid._ But she wasn’t. It wasn’t stupid to find herself and plan for a career change. 

_I’m sorry for trying to get rid of you._ Still no, he was the first one to provoke the moment he defied her decision. 

_I’m so sorry._

She didn’t know what to say so she would settle for that. She wasn’t even sure what she was sorry for. What she knew was that she was going to make things right and they would talk things through like the well-established people they were. 

She tediously sat on a bench in the atrium of his office wing. It was supposed to be a waiting area for clients but it was vacant thank goodness. She would wait for him there until he would come out at exactly ten, assuming he had followed his Thursday schedule. Hope and longing pulsed brighter against her twisting gut.

She’d bet if they weren’t giving each other silent treatment, they wouldn’t have made it to the headquarters separately. Instead, she came in her Camry and he in his beat-up impala he owned since college. They'd have coffee before starting the day in the shop just across 54th street. Oh, it would be one of those better, sweeter days. 

But they were caught up in the unknown, and all she could do was wait for him there. She waited for quite a long time, blankly staring at walls and reading lifestyle magazines from the stand. 

Raquel decided to text him a string of messages like _Paula misses you_. And it was stupid, because she missed him, too, and he knew their daughter was staying with Alicia. Or maybe he had forgotten. Nevertheless, she just needed an excuse to talk to him. 

She had been there for almost an hour now, and she knew he wasn't coming out of his office. Just like that, her hope plummeted. She didn't wait for a phoenix situation when it would rise from its ashes, because it would be ridiculous. He was still mad, and she was getting worse than mad. 

The concern never died, however. Last night, he drifted off to sleep even before Paula could when he read her her favorite bedtime stories. It was an indication that he hadn't been getting enough rest even though he would come home at his usual time which was two hours before midnight. Raquel understood how he wouldn't shut off his mind unless overthinking was still buzzing it to life. She didn't like that she was the reason why he was like this, and she didn't know what to do with it.

She felt her phone vibrate from the pocket of her slacks and quickly opened the message that popped up on the screen. 

_From: Sergio_

_Tell her Daddy will be home, soon :))_

That sort of held her up, so she waited for another fifteen minutes. If this was a normal day, she would've taken the message in an unbearably explicit context. Sadly, it wasn't. But he'd be out later, she assured herself. 

When he wasn't out of his office yet, she kept on telling herself maybe he was just fixing his things or preparing documents for tomorrow or sweeping his area because he was bored—but then no mere shadow came upon sight, no distinct footsteps were heard, and no doors swiveled open. 

It struck her he really wasn't coming. 

They weren't going to meet in the lobby and exchange apologies. She wasn't going to feel the brush of his lips against hers, the warmth of his hand on her already pale skin, his lips on the creases of her forehead, the weight of his torso as they would hypothetically embrace, and him, the pure beautiful nerd he was.

She didn't know what to feel. She turned down the volume of other things outside the physical surface of her body and intently listened to what her mind had got to say. It said nothing because she was torn in a mostly bitter sensation.

It was probably best not to distract him from work, so she let him be. That was the only rational thing she could think of and nothing more. Maybe the dust had not yet settled and the air wasn't cleared yet. If she had to, she'd give the both of them time to reflect. 

It was a bad idea, the whole waiting thing. He was clearly still trying to take in everything that happened. It somehow held him back and made him lose his composure. It was practically her fault, she thought. 

Her heart was just a hollow space on her ribcage. The apprehension precisely did its work of numbing her to the bone. She wanted to cry and let it all out, if not for these staffs rushing by the halls as she retreated to the parking lot. But she doubted she would even if she'd be alone in the safety of her car.

Raquel drove herself along the busy streets, city lights illuminating the entirety of her face with the coldness of night blue shades. She stared at the piece of gold around her finger as it glimmered with the love she swore would never fade away no matter what. 

She just needed some time to pull herself together.

  
  


...

  
  


_Raquel changed into a white turtleneck and skin-tight jeans from her damp work clothes in the car she had borrowed from a friend whose apartment was nearby the station. The train ride from New Jersey back to Manhattan made her dizzy. It was probably from sleep deprivation, but she didn't mind. The shooting was one hell of a blast, and she was sure of the movie's success from the first day of hustle. She was overjoyed by the assurance._

_But she needed to take off from her shift after a sudden phone call from her boyfriend, who had dialed her by accident but they managed to talk, anyway. She took note of how he slurred most of his words, his voice getting more hoarse as he talked, and how he whined that he was out of toilet paper—he had been drinking._

_She wanted to slam her head to the steering wheel, but all she could do was curse the traffic and grit her teeth. He badly needed her and she was eager to get there as soon as possible._

_"Oh, god. Sergio!" She exclaimed as she opened the door to his loft. She found his figure slumped on the couch. He wore nothing but his track pants, his hair was a mess, and he was missing his glasses. A couple of wine bottles were sprawled on the carpet, his laptop flashed open on the center table, and a stack of papers sat on the floor. It took a moment for this to register in her mind. He was never like this, and he was supposed to be at work right now._

_"Sergio," she softly called out as she shook him awake with a lot of concern, and he did but he struggled to open his eyes. Lines appeared across the length of her forehead as she cupped his face. She was pretty sure what she felt against her skin wasn't his normal temperature, so she rushed to his cupboard for his meds and poured a fair amount of lukewarm water on the glass._

_When she came back, she found him sitting up as he wore a confused look on his reddened face. She almost broke down at the sight of him. He looked so_ **_drastic_** _._

_He scratched his head as he took her in with relief gradually seeping in his emotions, "Raquel…"_

_"Hey, what happened? How are you?" She asked as she placed the glass of water and the capsule on the table and slipped a hand on his bare shoulder. As soon as he felt her touch, he pulled her to his chest as tight as he could that she almost suffocated. They didn't pull away for a while. She lingered on the roughness of his chest, how he circled her whole torso, and how he still pleasantly reeked of intoxication._

_Suddenly, she froze. His hands were trembling and his breaths were shallow and inconsistent. She only realized he was crying when they reluctantly pulled away from each other. She handed him the drink and the medicine as she settled herself on the couch beside him. Watching him sip from the glass, she shuddered at the thought of whatever made him like this. She rubbed his back as little sobs escape from his mouth._

_"How are you feeling?" She asked._

_"I don't know," he uttered blankly as he shrugged._

_She grabbed his hand to her lap, hoping she had assured him enough for what she was about to say: "Can you tell me what happened?"_

_He hesitated, then she understood he seemed very overwhelmed. If he wasn't ready to talk about it…_

_"They canceled my show."_

_Her mouth slightly parted, her tired eyes stared at him. "Oh, God. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I-"_

_"It's not your fault." He faced her and clenched his fist, but his eyes seemed to be fixed somewhere else as if he was lost. And at the moment, she knew he was. She pursed her lips, letting him take his time and compose himself._

_His gaze rattled between her and the stack of manuscripts near the sofa. "I did everything to keep it. Everything. I had anticipated the ratings, its impact on the audience if I did this if I did that if we cast this actor, if this is what the viewers want, if…"_

_He trailed off and sighed. She squeezed his hand and kissed it. "I'm right here."_

_With her words, he started to loosen his tensed posture. He didn't mind the tears welling up in his eyes, because she was here and that was all that mattered. Now, what he had to do was to vent it all out._

_"I had everything pictured from the very moment I started writing. It flowed, like a river never changing its course. I had been working on this since I was sixteen, Raquel. Right after my father's death, I realized I needed to prove something, if I couldn't I was afraid he'd curse me in his grave. I bet he's cursing me from his grave and punishing me with empty tissue rolls right now."_

_They both laughed at that._

_After his sniffing slowed down, he continued, "It's just that I don't want to fail. It's the worse part of the process."_

_She stared at him, silently urging him to continue...But he didn't. She realized it was all that he had to say for now, though she knew he wanted to add something, he stopped himself. Like she always did, she let him be._

_She smiled at him reassuringly and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Everything will turn out fine. Maybe not now, but it will. Now, how can I show up for you to move forward?"_

_He sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Just being here with me is more than enough."_

_She blushed, delightful that he was feeling better, though she knew it might take some time for him to adjust to facing a huge quarter of his goal's adversaries. This was new to him, and her mindset wasn't familiar with such despair, either, but she knew she would never understand. The least that she could do was to guide him through it, and she'd do little by little as to not overwhelm him._

_"Sergio."_

_He attentively raised his eyebrows. "Yes?"_

_"To take your mind off things for a while, how about we cook?" She suggested._

_"And take a hot bath after?"_

_"And take a hot bath after."_

...

  
  


Drops of water poured onto her skin. It was neither too cold nor too warm, but Raquel shivered. She was finally taking her much-deserved alone time, though she had been doing that for the past few days. But this time, there wasn't a husband to tentatively avoid. She was alone in the loft, so hopefully, no one would disturb her. She missed Paula, though.

And inevitably, Sergio. 

_God._ She wondered why every thought she had in her head would find its way back to him. _It's because you share a bed and you fucking love him_ , she answered herself. 

She was drenched in the shower for almost thirty minutes and when she thought she had enough, she wrapped herself with a towel fresh from the cabinet, blow-dried her hair, and changed into a silk nightgown.

Everything around her was hazy, even with the warm glow of the nightlight. Raquel realized she had been so hard on herself, and she needed to lose at least a few of the rigid stakes in her life. 

Just as when she was about to switch off the light, she spotted Sergio's sleeping figure on the bed. On _her_ side of the bed. He had her pillow clutched to his nose, as if he had been sniffing her scent to sleep. Had she been in the shower for too long? She wasn't sure. She was too lightheaded to even care. 

She jolted as she felt something beneath her feet while walking towards the bed. She had stepped on his belt, and she realized his clothes were thrown on the floor. She crouched to pick them up and lazily put them inside the box hamper. 

She threw herself beside him, but even the carelessness of her movements didn't wake him up. He _must_ have been so tired, and it was clear to her why he was doing this to himself—because she was doing this to herself, too.

They couldn't take care of Paula in this state, so a part of her wished she had gone to his office and made up with him, or he had come out earlier from work. But wishes weren't any use at times like this. She could only think about what she _could_ do. 

At that moment, all she could do was lie on her stomach, trace the lines of his face, and wonder if he was dreaming. If he was, what could his dreams be? Maybe he was too drained to even dream. 

She was, too. But that didn't mean she had to give up. No matter what, she still had him in her dreams. And she hoped he still had her in his. She was looking forward to the day he would realize this.

Raquel was starting to drift to a pleasant slumber as she wrapped her arms across his chest because nothing rivaled how good her skin felt against his.

And then peace took over the night. 

At least, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading!


	4. The Sierra Intervention

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i am deeply touched by the comments you’ve left on the second chapter. thank you so, so much!
> 
> second, i am sorry for the rather late update. i’ll promise to keep up.
> 
> lastly, some of my readers on the fic that i recently deleted are wishing my therapy to go smoothly. it is and i’m glad. thank you so much for the support. it means a lot to me.

_ She ran barefoot under the scorching broad daylight, her golden hair sprinkled with sand by the wind, irises swirling with the sweetness of honey, perfectly tanned skin kissing the chariots from the sun. She came into focus through his lenses—and was pleasantly abstracted through his dark eyes for his mind to capture this bliss, the explosive sound of her laughter filling the tropical air.  _

_ She pulled him farther to the sea, where the prim evanescent blue of the skies were reflected upon its salty exterior. Their feet sank in the fine surface of the sand with every step. They held each other as their bodies submerged into the water, the heat of the atmosphere and coolness of the sea enveloping their skin.  _

_ He circled her waist and brushed his lips to her nose, then to her parted swollen lips, tasting the crystalline substance dissolved in the water and the leftover sourness of red wine in her mouth.  _

_ His fingers—with one of them now glistening with a golden band that matched hers—caressed her burnt cheek as their heads sunk together underwater, as deep as their kisses had gotten.  _

_ Then she pulled away, grasped his face, and whispered something inaudible, bubbles storming from her mouth to his face. _

_ The next thing he knew, he felt his chest tighten like an oceanic surface current. His knees grew weak. His arms paralyzed. His vision going pitch-black.  _

_ His whole body wobbled and sagged down the bottom of the sea. _

_ He didn't realize he was drowning until it crossed his nebulous mind. Deep, deep, deep, deep into what seemed like a trench. He fought the density of the water and clumsily staggered everywhere to feel her, to touch her skin, to run his hand through her hair, to have their fingers clasped together…But there was nothing but an unsteady current and a static force in his ear. He tried to scream, but all came out was a muffled whisper of her name. He was numb, but he felt hot tears dispersing in the sea. _

_ Just like that, she had vanished, and he had no one but the hollow space of saltwater filling his lungs. There was no scarier prospect than realizing he had let go of his salvation just as when he needed her the most.  _

...

This was what he had been dreaming of. 

A fry of apprehension flooded his senses awake. There was an obscured view of the first rays of the sun. Though interrupted by the lofty structures of New York, flares of golden orange and purple melting in the sky were visible through the windows.

He immediately searched for her hand and fondled them as soon as he felt her fingertips with his sweat-beaded palm. 

_ That was strange. _

He drowsily rolled to his side and turned to her to make him come to his senses that it wasn't real. That it was just a dream. And when he saw a blurry figure of a woman sleeping soundly right beside him, he sighed with relief and set her hand back to her side. 

He swore he had felt her weight on his chest when he woke up in the middle of the night, but it must have been a collateral wedge of his dream.

He rubbed his nape, with his other hand patting the bedside table for his glasses as his puffy eyes squinted in confusion. When he finally got to wear it, the first thing that transitioned from a blur to a clear sight was the monochromatic mosaic of pictures he took of Raquel and himself during their honeymoon in Palawan. 

Their smiles beamed on the glossy surface of the oversized framed piece that was drilled to the wall across their bedroom. He mirrored their expression for a minute, staring wistfully at how they were both so blithe and carefree back then. 

He could still taste the sweetness of those particular moments as he drifted his thoughts to the days of not so long ago, when they could still find ways to share the same hours of joy here in this crowded city as they had in the sand—just the two of them, whimsical and in love, drenched in the sea and under the sun. 

The sensation was familiar, but it seemed to be on the other side of the world, or maybe on another dimension that would be impossible to cross. 

And that beautiful core memory-turned-nightmare left a frightening menace settling on his nerves. It made him tremble just a little.

Sergio took in the air of longing and nostalgia, which would soon be gradually filled with tension and rigidness once Raquel wakes up. He was certain of it. The awkwardness hadn't gone away and he wasn't sure what to do with it. It was making him sick, to be frank.

He gently kicked the sheets off him and draped its entirety over her shoulders in an attempt to cast up more solace to what was seemingly a placid drowse. No one would ever deserve that kind of peacefulness more than Raquel, whose face appeared to be direfully deficient in color. Sergio noted himself to make her a cup of tea later, disregarding the fact that they were still not in a good place right now. 

He reluctantly pressed a soft kiss on her temple then carefully got up from the bed. He kind of freaked himself out from his own gesture, as if he hadn't been doing this for a long time now. He just hoped that kiss he made sure was as light as a feather transpired assurance and comfort to whatever she was dreaming of and that it wouldn't turn as bad as it did with his.

...

Succulents lined the window ledge that gave a nifty accent to the kitchen. It was one of those impulsive but creative step-ups they had decided to commit to. Raquel thought of it as an ornamental addition but it came to an arc of fulfillment. It was her idea to have a few more houseplants around which added an appeal to the prospect of having a personal green environment despite being in a city—to which Sergio happily compelled. It somehow gave their home a distinct kind of peace that was theirs alone. It would have been a pleasure to savor if only his mind wasn’t in a state of utter confusion. 

It was his habit to watch as much of the two-hour morning news as he could before they would clean up the kitchen and get ready to work. Platters of french toasts topped with fresh berries occupied the kitchen island. He made himself coffee and had a little counter-celebration that he was alone and miserable today. Paula wouldn't come home until seven and he let Raquel sleep through the remaining hours of her free time.

And he let himself seize his own distress. He didn't want to reach the point that they'd get used to the silent treatment. 

As he munched on breakfast, he heard a buzz from the front door. He almost giddily teetered in relief when he opened it, and there his daughter was: beaming with excitement in her pajamas while she cradled her stuffed elephant. “Daddy!” She cried as she bolted to his arms. 

“I missed you,” she managed to say while he peppered her with kisses all over her face. 

"You're home early," he said as he pulled away and cupped her face. “How was the sleepover?”

“Aunt Alicia and I made cupcakes and she taught me how to dance because she said you and Mommy are clumsy dancers!”

He shot a look at the woman who had been leaning against the door the whole time. Alicia Sierra was Sergio’s quite invasive half-cousin, though sometimes they tend to forget about that relation when they would hold random debates about anything. She had met Raquel in high school and were inseparable ever since. Through her, he and his wife would have had met sooner than they did when they were both twenty-four. But the sands of time don't always fall on the same direction as what we think are meant for us, do they?

She smirked and threw her hands in the air in mock guilt. She scrunched her face. "Just reminiscing what happened in your wedding dance. Nothing personal." 

Paula giggled, "What happened in your wedding dance, Daddy?" 

Sergio glanced down in embarrassment and tried his luck on diverting them to another topic, which to his relief actually worked. "I think it's time for you to take a shower and get ready for school, yeah?" He reminded her as he gently stroke her cheek, so Paula nodded and ran to her room in a cheerful dance. Sergio steadily fixed his eyes on her until she disappeared in the corridor and heard her slam her door close with nimble eagerness, chuffed with the welfare the moment had brought him. 

"Aren't you gonna let me in?" Alicia asked and gave him a wary look, her arms still crossed over her chest. 

"It's not like you won't let yourself in eventually." Sergio adjusted his glasses as he played along with her satirical utterance. She had been a regular fixture in their home, much more than a mere guest would ever be. 

She headed to the kitchen and settled herself on one of the stools, reaching for a piece of toast. Her face was stern, eyes darting through his as she said, "We need to talk." 

Sergio wasn't able to relax in his chair after that so he kept quiet, letting her fill in the silence that saturated the air. The coffee has gone cold, but to keep himself from being occupied he slugged it down to its last drops. He couldn't bear with another friend intervening with his personal relationships—especially with Raquel. _No_ , not again.

"So, have you guys packed up?" Alicia asked, her tone light which seemed to ease his convulsing nerves. 

He relaxed. He was overthinking. This might have been about something else. "Uh, for what?" 

She frowned, "You've forgotten tomorrow’s exhibit? How dare you." 

_Right_. The exhibit. 

Alicia was an artist—an observably meticulous painter and architect. She had an eye for colors, structures, strokes, combinations, and abstract elements. And she knew how to bring life from them. Three of her paintings were plastered on their walls, including the one she gave them as a wedding gift eight years ago. After a decade of gathering up all her courage, she was finally debuting and it was the greatest pursuance of her life.

As someone who would always see the bigger picture, which was one of the credibilities of her artistic perspective, she noticed how her friend had been roaming around the spirals of his thoughts. It was obvious though, considering he kept on warily checking the corridor to the bedrooms as if he was preparing himself for something larger than life. He might not have even realized how he was acting, which was no surprise because this was the typical Sergio she knew. 

Running a hand through the red locks of her hair, she took a deep audible breath to establish herself. Although disappointed that he had forgotten about her exhibit, it wasn't the sole reason why she wanted to talk. "Okay, I'll cut the crap. I came here for Raquel."

"Knew it," he affirmed, trying to sound relaxed. "Raquel's getting her much-needed rest. Can you wait until she wakes up?"

She tilted her head, her hair falling onto a side of her shoulder. "How about getting her much-needed assurance? Have you given her that?"

His brows met in a distasteful furrow. He got up from his chair, thumbed his forehead, paced around the room, then paused. “She told you.”

“Sergio, get back here.” 

He obliged, then ran a hand through his hair. “Why did-“

She held her palm up to shut him, then clasped her fingers together on the table. "Listen, Sergio. Raquel and I met over lunch yesterday—her treat, but she left her food as it is. Then I sort of made her tell me what was wrong. I convinced her to let Paula stay with me because I thought you both needed some time together. I didn't tell her the last part though.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said as he spaced out with a million thoughts in his head. 

Alicia rolled her eyes. “Just listen. Can you see where I’m going? Your wife barely touched her food. Do you know what that means? Has she been eating? Is she okay? 'Cause I don't think so. And you should be worried. Do you actually know how she’s doing or are you still dwelling on the fact that you’re not talking rather than acting upon what you need to do?”

Taken back from the harshness of her tone and words, he just stared at her then silently uttered, “I’m doing my best."

“By what, cooking her breakfast? No, no, Sergio. You _idiot_. That's sweet, I would have to admit and she needs that. But that's not enough. I know I’m not in the right place to say this but you need to talk to her. A healthy exchange, you know, between two substantial dimwits madly in love. Do you get it?"

He blinked and only regarded her with his mouth shut, clearly zoning to the depths of his thoughts again. 

"Yes, you do," she concluded. "Now she's trying to pull herself together because you pushed her away by forcing her into something she didn't even want in the first place."

A sense of inadequacy rushed over. He didn't like it; the fact that someone could see through him. He felt transparent and was provided with no clue if only his cousin wasn’t there to slap the truth out of him. “If Raquel is ready to talk, she will. I’m just giving her the space she needs so she can find the right time to let out what she has to say.”

“Perhaps the reason why she hasn’t found that yet is that you’re not assuring her that you will listen.”

Hastily, he felt a different kind of anguish erupting inside. As much as he wanted to control it, he felt the sour wrath of tears falling through his cheek and fogging his glasses. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. Sobbing quietly, he tried to snap, “Just drop it, Alicia.” 

She pursed her lips, waiting for him to surrender and admit what he was doing wrong—it was the only way to wake him up from his disassociation from reality. When she couldn’t do it with silence, she just had to break it. “Let’s take it this way. How do you feel about this? All of this.”

He hesitated, then tentatively answered, “I want to support her, but I don’t want her to suffer the same fate as I did. I haven’t moved on from my trauma, you know. The fear of not making it...It just doesn’t sit well with me. How can I listen to her when I can’t even listen to myself?”

“And what did she do when you were on the rock bottom? Did she leave you? Was she ashamed that your show flopped? Did she think less of you? No, Sergio. She was always there. She always puts you first that it worried me she hasn’t been taking care of herself.

“It’s my first time seeing Raquel with such conviction to realize what she wants. She’s her own person, not a story you have brought to life with faux settings in front of the cameras. She is the one you have fallen in love with, much more than you have with your craft. You’re her pride, and I know that she’s yours, too. And all that concern she has for herself? Those are the leftovers from the ones she had given you and Paula.” 

Then she realized must have been impulsively hard on him, so she impaired her fortification. “I have no means of pressuring you. You can take your time. I’m just making you figure out that you should let her be. The sooner, the better.”

Sergio sniffed, considering what she had said for a moment. It hurt him that things weren’t falling into place, that he had let her go through this...All because he was too stubborn and selfish. He had seen it all now, as clear as the day. But he still didn’t know where to start. 

“I’m trying,” he said helplessly.

“If you love her, you have to try harder.” 

...

Little did they know Raquel stood in the hallway leading to the space that the living room and the kitchen generously shared, listening to their every word. Comfort and uncertainty washed over her as she went back inside to check on Paula, a rush of tears all over her face. 

She didn’t want to expect something from him, but she couldn’t help but marvel at the mysteries of what her husband would do next. 

...

Sergio looked down on his coffee mug, its emptiness reflecting the void in his heart. The only thing that made it beat on its own course was his will to make things right and his wish to be back in her arms.

Alicia cleared her throat, “How are you feeling now?”

“Okay,” he answered, “and dumbfounded.”

“You better thank me for that.”

He let out a chuckle, but it soon faded. “I’m overwhelmed, honestly. Raquel and I started this marriage in the best way possible to keep it that way throughout its entirety. But we know it’s not perfect, and it never will be. It’s just that we’ve never had the imperfections this bad.”

Alicia considered this, then gave him a look that he was being understood. “You know what? Cherishing how a relationship started is sentimental. It makes you go back to the better days. But harboring in mind resolutely how it evolves...That’s priceless. It inspires you to move forward and to yearn for growth. Just promise me you’re willing to grow with her.”

“Aren’t promises meant to be broken?”

She shook her head, “No, Sergio. They’re meant to be kept.”

Yet Sergio was aware of the factuality of not being able to make promises to anyone, not even to himself. But he made sure to embed to the blood running through his veins, to the heart that has been keeping him alive, that he and Raquel were meant to grow together. Whatever it takes. 

...

Sergio stayed to accompany Raquel and Paula for breakfast. It was secluded with no guarantee of a good conversation—just the cackling of forks against the ceramic plates and the chatter of a newscaster on the television. Alicia had a flight to Boston to catch so she needed to leave. She wasn’t able to see her friend though, but they’d see each other tomorrow so that was fine. Besides, Raquel was too pre-occupied with what she had heard from Alicia’s little intervention.

“Mommy, what will we do in Boston?” Paula asked, finally rupturing the awkward silence between her parents that she hadn’t noticed. 

She turned to her as she sliced her toast in half, “Aunt Alicia will have an exhibition of her paintings there, and we’ll stay there for the weekend.” 

“Paintings? Like _Swaying Dancer_?” 

“Sweetie, what’s a _Swaying Dancer_?”

Sergio interjected, his glance swiveling from Raquel then to Paula, “It’s one of Edgar Degas’ prominent works. It’s a part of his collection in Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza in Madrid.” 

“And it’s my favorite because it has ballet dancers!” Paula added in delight.

“And Degas was fascinated by ballet, hence, he included a lot of it in his other paintings.”

“Does that mean I can have more favorites?

“You can have them all as your favorites,” he said as he gave their daughter a high five. “Did you know it was originally titled _Danseuses basculant_?”

It made her giggle in astonishment, grateful to have learned new things everyday from her Dad. A playful exchange of what they loved about the painting filled the kitchen with such a light atmosphere. 

Raquel managed a small smile at the pleasant sight in front of her. _Such a nerd_ , she wanted to say out loud to tease him, but she stopped herself with respect to the distance they were still keeping from each other. 

...

Later that afternoon, Sergio packed his gym bag and Raquel’s suitcase in the trunk of her car to get ready for the trip. Paula’s things were placed in the foyer, refusing to load it in as she insisted to have it beside her in the backseat. 

Meanwhile, Raquel was still blow-drying her hair in their bedroom. She was in her usual crewneck sweater and the cropped skinny jeans Sergio had given her last Christmas. Once she was all set, she locked the door behind her and fumbled for her phone inside her leather tote, but soon realized she had left it in the their room. With a grunt, she had to run back from the elevator and retrieve it to her clutch. There were two unopened messages from Alicia when she opened it, probably raving about the preparations in the art gallery. But to her surprise, she wasn’t.

_ Alicia: RAQUEEEELLLLLLLLLLL _

_ Alicia: We’re leaving, what’s taking you so long? _

She frowned. 

_ Raquel: What? _

Then she rushed back to the elevator, her high-heeled boots be damned. She wondered what Alicia had meant by her texts as she descended to the garage. 

There she was in flesh, with Paula clutching her hand. A confused scowl formed on her husband’s face as he fidgeted with the car keys.

Raquel, with her eyes narrowed, skidded as she neared them, "Aren’t you supposed to be in Boston?”

“Well, if it isn’t your beloved wife,” Alicia uttered to Sergio in a histrionical fashion, nudging him by the elbow.

“So why are you here again?” Sergio asked, hands on his hips. He didn’t quite catch what she had said to him earlier before Raquel arrived. 

“Paula’s coming with me,” the redhead answered, showing off her fitful decision-making capabilities which made the couple shake their heads. They knew her well enough to realize this was a set-up, and as much as they wanted to hold each other tight with the absence of mutual constraint, they couldn’t bear keeping their close proximity at a perceivable custom without their daughter holding the awkward space together. 

But they also knew how insistent Alicia was. Even if there were the two of them with an unspoken disagreement, they were still outnumbered, because it was Alicia Sierra and she had an impressive track record of holding successful interventions on her friends’ lives. If there was rule she would like to impose on the world, it would be the valid acceptability of her being always right. 

She gave her phone for Paula to play and got down on her knee to level her eyes and with an antsy grin, asked her the question Sergio and Raquel had felt extreme reluctance to hear. “Paula, honey, would you like to drive to Boston with me? We’ll drop by Krispy Kreme once we reach Connecticut.” 

Their daughter’s eyes almost bulged out with excitement. She then tugged the hem of Raquel’s shirt, begging to let her on a roadtrip with her aunt. 

Raquel turned to Sergio with her eyebrows raised, “Dad, what do you think?” 

He tried to suppress his mirth, both at the fact that his wife had just talked to him and Paula in her uncontrollable gaiety. He made a show of pretending to think about it, gently pulling on his beard. “Hmm. I guess it wouldn’t be bad as long as there are no more embarrassing stories about how terrible Raquel and I are at dancing,” he said, eyeing Alicia. 

Regarded by his approval, Raquel pulled her daughter in a tight embrace and kissed her forehead, wishing her a safe trip. Sergio did the same, and then Alicia ushered the little girl to her flashy pick-up truck. “Safe trip, forking lovebirds!” She called out as she started the engine. 

They were left side-by-side, their eyes peered to follow the truck as it disappeared on the road. 

“Let’s go,” Sergio conveyed as he led her to the car, his hand automatically on the small of her back, which sent tingles to her spine that she almost smiled to herself. 

If only they weren’t eaten alive by adamant avoidance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading!


	5. Days Like This

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! I haven't been feeling well for the past few days and right now, i’m still not in a good place. 
> 
> but this creative work that I get to constantly share with this fandom is what keeps me going. thank you all for the good feedback, i always get back to them whenever self-doubt would beat me up.
> 
> take this chapter as a gift from me, because the moment i started writing this, i was trying to move forward—to love and to live. 
> 
> and i just want everyone to do the same.
> 
> also thank you to meg, three sad grandmas, and the rest of lcdc for the support. I owe you guys a lot.

Raquel was on the verge of fleeing out of the tinted window, not minding how virtually narrow it was for her to escape from. She was too clouded with so many prospects that her mind had purposely forgotten how she could just unlock the door and roll down the hot asphalt road, while the man next to her was clutching the steering wheel with his hands so they could reach their destination as soon as possible. He gripped it tightly, streams of veins popping off from the moss of rough hairy texture running through his forelimbs. _God_ , she had almost neglected where that pair of well-structured hands could take her to. 

Distracted from her thoughts of the ridiculous involvement of his hands, she ran back to what seemed like the tenth time of building up crazy circumstances as to how she could divulge herself out of the car—nothing of which wouldn’t require her husband hysterically calling her name as he would force her back inside, or tires screeching, or the both of them ending up in the hospital. 

She didn’t even dare recall his name, because it sounded like something else in her mind that caused a stirring stimulation inside her. He would sneak off-proportioned glances to her direction from time to time, and she just wanted to disappear from his sight. But she didn’t know-how. The perplexity made her internally combust as if stars were shooting everywhere.

She really _, really_ wanted to get out of there; it wasn't the right time to desire some sort of sexual gratification when they were literally just at each other's withdrawal.

 _Stupid hands,_ she ejected stubbornly inside her mind.

It was certainly the forlorn of affection as they haven't had actual ones for what felt like years. The closest they've ever gotten was the kisses that happened before the threshold of their consciousness, the ones they had thrice now as he held out her coffee when she had shown up for breakfast. Half of its sufficient grounds for an explanation was to show Paula they were okay, and the other just the fact that it was a desperate measure. There were also forehead kisses and sleepy one-sided cuddles that happened in hushed acts, the ones full of longing and anguish aroused by the matters they couldn’t control.

But on an apparent note, a thought rushed past her mind, and gratefulness was concealed as she wasn’t deeply shrouded by absurd cognitions anymore. It dawned out of nowhere that it wasn’t healthy to conform themselves to the fact that they were supposed to be putting forth extreme efforts to avoid each other. It was clear that he was suffocated by such exertion, simply because she knew him well. It was pretty evident on how he would throttle his hands back whenever she was around, or even on the smallest of his rigid gestures the keen observer in her would spot. 

It was straight-up awkward, and Raquel started to wonder what he had in mind as drizzles of his words from her eavesdropping earlier that day emerged. 

_I’m trying,_ he had said, as helpless as he was until Alicia decided to show up. 

_I'm doing my best,_ he had tried to assure; mostly for his cousin's satisfaction than for hers because she wasn't even there in the first place. But she doubted he would mean it less if she was the one he was facing instead.

Somehow, it touched her—Alicia raising her concern and taking the matters in her own hands as if they couldn't handle it themselves. That was half-true though. Either of them should've taken care of it sooner but it was plainly obvious they both didn't know which step to take first. Her friend might have done such a job at that. She made her realize how stubborn they had been, even if her words were not even directed to her. She took them with great understanding, nevertheless. 

It was Sergio whom she knew needed all the patience and the same understanding from this world. He had pathological tendencies of slipping away to his subconscious when something extreme would happen. No matter how smart he was, when it came to matters regarding feelings, he would need some more time for absorption. This was because of the fact that he had read books and neutralities more than he had interacted with people. 

Raquel understood and respected that he was a man of translating his thoughts to actions rather than doing so through words, and to her, it was one of the most fascinating things about him.

…

_Fall in the city was, without question, Raquel’s favorite time of the year. It felt like every particle in the air was crisp and pleasant. She loved the cold subtly biting her skin, it was brisk and amplifying. Full of color. Full of vibrancy. It was everything. She wanted to spring from the ground and leap her way through the crowd, to be lost and to be found. But she didn't want to mislead her friend behind her who was now trying to find a good angle with an old camera from the antique shop whilst walking._

_Sergio aimed the camera at her, trying to capture the moment when she was at her happiest. He took in how she almost skipped on the pavement and how her golden hair was animated with impeccable volume just below her shoulders. He couldn't keep his huge smile to himself, because she was wearing his coat and he was left with just a wool sweater. It was such an adorable sight because she looked like she shrank against the fabric._

_He managed to take a shot. Just one shot, since she was too giddy and jumpy. The film ejected from its slot. There she was, a work of art in a frame of inter-layered sheets. He pursed his lips and stopped himself from shivering from the autumn breeze and the warmth her giddiness had brought._

_"Raquel," he called out as he held the film to show her, "you seem like a baby here."_

_She stopped walking to look over her shoulder and snatch it from his hand. Her eyes watered with admiration as she gently nudged his stomach, flinching at what she had just felt beneath his shirt. "That's just my back and my hair."_

_"I know," he affirmed. “But it’s a beautiful shot, isn’t it?”_

_She felt her cheeks match the golden sepia tone of the city. "Your coat did a good job at fully wrapping me like a burrito, did it?"_

_He let out a laugh, "Just look at yourself right now."_

_She glanced at the glass window of a bookstore they happened to pass and stared at herself. She looked happier than she ever was even before she had met him, but she was still afraid to admit it._

_“You seem to be enjoying the weather today,” he shyly uttered, his shoulders shyly slumping._

_It’s because you’re with me, she wanted to answer. But before she did, he snaked his arms around where the dimples on her back were as they traipsed together through the crowd of locals and tourists._

_I think I’m falling in love with you, his gesture suggested. Oh, how good it felt to be twenty-four and secretly in love under the streaming social intercourse on the streets of New York. It was too obvious that he was feeling the same, but she knew he was a coward to even let it out in articulation._

_Careful as to not overcome him with strong feelings, she stayed in her place and patiently awaited the green light as it made its way gradually to the non-existent space in between them._

  
  


_..._

  
  


_Patience._ It came naturally through Raquel when dealing with such extremes—with her husband, of course. It was her pleasure to be one of those people with whom he could open up to. And now what?

They were stuck in a space that could suppress their breaths without proper ventilation, but even if it had it suffocated them more. She didn’t feel any better when she started to realize his glances were something from a drive of menace as if he was holding himself back in intimidation. Indeed, it was of her usual demeanor, but with her husband around she would give that off in moderation as she knew how easily he could be taken back by anything. She would either be in the mood or in mellow softness with him, but this was one of the rare moments she was neither—well, maybe a little bit of the latter, but it was in control. 

_Perhaps it’s time,_ she thought to herself in an instant. He didn’t deserve this kind of treatment. Neither did she. But until when would they let themselves loath the will to make things right?

…

A shot of the unattainable desire of taking the risk to hold his wife’s trembling hands while driving had never been ablaze like this. As an overthinker, Sergio wasn’t fond of seeing through people. Most of the characters he had written in his shows were just a fragment of the ones he had met in his favorite novels, and all of his expectations on people were set by fictional standards. 

The stark difference was that she was Raquel, his best friend for eleven years, girlfriend for two, and wife for eight. That was long enough for core-deep intimacies to get to know her. As of the moment, she was nervous but managed to hide it well as she would always do. 

_If you love her, you have to try harder._

How did Alicia get into his head without even being there in the first place, he had no idea. She was always that loud. But probably the reason why her voice decided to transcend through this little inconvenience he was facing right now: she was right. He didn’t want to admit it, but she was so right. 

_If you love her, you have to try harder._

Love is not an obligation, but a natural tendency. Natural; like the waters, the earth, the leaves, the trees. In this instance, it was water—it needed a current to flow and a ridge to be contained. Because if either would be untimely missing, it could surge out of its course. 

This was how he understood it, not because of a typical romance book, he hadn’t even read one for years now. It was because their love was enough for him to comprehend its very language. And he couldn’t imagine any other type of love other than the one he had.

_If you love her, you have to try harder._

So this had to be fixed, no more further preamble. But he wanted Raquel to settle before they could talk. He wanted her to clear her mind and get out of whatever she was thinking as he would initiate the reconciliation. However this would turn out, he couldn’t let her face another burden with her mind juggling in chaos.

He then decided to turn on the radio, hoping it would work its spell on the poison. 

A tasteful melody played. Van Morrison’s baritone voice and sultry approach to pure emotion escaped the speakers of her car. His eyes were still on the road, yet he couldn’t ignore how she seemed to ease on her seat from his peripheral view. She loved music with all her heart, and the track came on the right timing even if it wasn’t her most favorite of Morrison’s discography. But it was well-appreciated nonetheless. 

_When it's not always raining there'll be days like this_

_When there's no one complaining there'll be days like this_

She was now involuntarily tapping her thigh to the beat, and her skin slightly bounced with the fabric of her pants as her fingers nimbly dug in with the rhythm.

_When everything falls into place like the flick of a switch_

_Well my mama told me there'll be days like this_

There was a silent mutual wish for the lyrics to be true, as they both desired for things to fall where they belong. 

_When you don't need to worry there'll be days like this_

_When no one's in a hurry there'll be days like this_

_When you don't get betrayed by that old Judas kiss_

_Oh my mama told me there'll be days like this_

She was now bopping her head, and Sergio tried to suppress a smile. He was thankful he had the road to peer on, otherwise he could pull her into a tight embrace at that moment. 

_When you don't need an answer there'll be days like this_

_When you don't meet a chancer there'll be days like this_

_When all the parts of the puzzle start to look like they fit it_

_Then I must remember there'll be days like this_

Then his head twitched in her direction as he heard her strong raspy voice harmonizing on the hook. He could barely focus on driving now.

_When everyone is up front and they're not playing tricks_

_When you don't have no freeloaders out to get their kicks_

_When it's nobody's business the way that you want to live_

_I just have to remember there'll be days like this_

Suddenly, everything they had against affection felt like a pile of feathers twirling in the air after an intense pillow fight. Sergio felt lightheaded, giving in to the hazy delight of the moment. Attempting to convey a sense of certitude, he cleared his throat, causing Raquel to stop and frown at him. She must have misinterpreted the gesture, so he lowered down his voice in a careless impersonation of Van Morrison’s tone and joined in.

_When no one steps on my dreams there'll be days like this_

_When people understand what I mean there'll be days like this_

Raquel gaped at him, wondering where the hell did he gather such guts to get along with the vibe. But the comparatively marked separation of the instant from his usual ones was captivating and she had been missing these typical occurrences with him, so she just threw all her baggage away and clamped herself at the moment. 

_When you ring out the changes of how everything is_

_Well my mama told me there'll be days like this_

Not long during that verse, he got down an octave lower with his voice getting more unstable and shaky. She giggled and slapped his arm, struggling to go on with the song. He was astonished at how it was all so casual and relieving for the both of them. 

_Oh my mama told me_

_There'll be days like this_

The final repetitive section of the song was drowned with lunatic attacks to delectably perform with exaggerated theatrics. Sergio kept his eyes on the road, while Raquel wheezed between the lines. Their voices didn’t technically blend together, but if the chastity of love had a distinct sound, this was certainly it. 

And then he felt the weight off his chest. _There it was,_ the smile he had been aching to witness. She was back with it, and he wanted to shake the world in so much pleasure. He needed to keep it that way. 

They ended the jam with more uncontrollable laughter as he slapped the steering wheel. She was catching her breath, reaching for his travel thermos on its handle. 

“You ruined the song,” she uttered in between deep respirations. 

Sergio smirked, “I’ll make it up to you with another one, then.”

Raquel tried not to let out another laugh as she twisted the lid of the container and quickly filled herself in, then stuck it out of her mouth and put the lid back on. “Drink some water instead,” she suggested, holding the thermos to his side as if he would pick it up.

“I’ll pull over later,” he exhaled, “when we spot a coffee shop.”

“Sure,” she said, nodding her head while putting the thermos back in its place. She reclined her seat as she adjusted for a more comfortable position to take a nap.

“Tired?” Sergio asked with hesitation, still tensed on wherever they stood. 

“Didn’t know you could tire me out this way,” she chuckled, then he held his breath as she laid out her reference. “What?” She asked with seemingly fake innocence. 

He shook his head as if that major implication didn’t light something inside him, “Nothing.”

Raquel shrugged, resting her head back. The air felt less stifling, and there was something in that little moment that had drawn her agitation to a light that resembled yearning for a particular fondness.

_Don’t say it._

_Don’t say it._

_No, no. Don’t say it._

_Don’t._

She sighed, “Sergio.”

He hummed in response, his eyes still discerning their route, equally nervous. 

“I’ve missed you,” she blurted out, almost reluctant with an apprehensive tone. “I’m sorry.”

No response. With an arch of a plea, she was persuaded by the moment to observe how the shadows of the buildings they’ve been passing by were drawn to his face and torso in refracted transitions. Vehicles from the other lane and the side streets were exhibited as outlines on his glasses. The afternoon sun made its way in, distorted and splendor on their laps and the dashboard. The view from the windows proceeded with what looked like light vapor in the air. 

Another sigh came from Raquel. 

Yet she didn’t miss how his chin trembled, and how those beady eyes behind his glasses pooled with fresh tears from his well of closeted emotions. She didn’t want to pressure him though. 

It wasn’t even her fault in the first place. But even if it obscured how she saw herself and how it made her seem to trash her worth, she wanted him to say something. Her worth could be fucked if that would mean she could have him back. 

There was even not a single regression in her stare. 

As if Sergio was the subject of her intense gravity of silent pleas, he pulled over in front of an espresso house with vast custom windows, slick calligraphy of excerpts from different life anecdotes—some of which he could recognize—were tapestried on the smooth surface. 

Raquel squinted at the place, then to him. She didn’t like how he just took her words with dereliction. _What is he doing?_

Seeing the puzzled look on her face, he grabbed her hand and pecked a small kiss on her knuckles. Her expression softened, eyelids wavering through tears she had been holding back. 

“Sergio,” she breathed out, unable to grope for words as they were thrown away by confusion. 

“I’m sorry, Raquel,” he whispered against the back of her hand.

For a moment, they searched each other’s gaze, no scrutinization, and expectations this time; just the belongingness that was neglected but never left their side being back on its course. Their foreheads touched, the space in between them unruffled and placid. He enveloped the length of her shoulder to his arms, and she veiled her face with his chest. 

_This_ was the rightness she had been craving. It was pure and absolute, so genuine and earnest. No words needed, just the touch of his warm skin and his breath feeling like steam going off a cup of freshly-brewed coffee as she claimed his lips with an audible suction. The sound of their moist kisses filled the still air, just above the low hum of her car’s engine. She adjusted herself closer, never seeming to break it off with him. He deepened his plunge into her soft lips, their tongues passing imperceptibly, the fluidity of their movements manifesting with every force they exerted onto one another. 

They held on and asked for more with the gliding of their hands in their bodies, a language they spoke with such fluency, as they had been waiting for so long to be in this moment. Indeed their love was the river—air, gravity, and plowed fertile grounds naturally running its way to something bigger, much like the sea. 

He pulled away and nuzzled her nose with his, making her titter. “I’ve missed you, too.”

Raquel settled back to her seat with utter satisfaction, giving his cheek a gentle caress. Bracing herself with what they should do as a step for everything to fall into place at their own terms, she nodded to the café, “Seems like a nice place to talk. Shall we?”

…

Lounged on stylish couches with a mirror coffee table in between, they took in the earthy ambiance of the local cafeteria. A creative display of mugs hanging from the ceiling hovered a few meters above their heads. 

Raquel breathed in the aroma of her chai coffee, unavoidably rehearsing a piece of her mind in her head. She studied Sergio from across her, who adorably snacked on soft pretzels and sipping on the ceramic cup of his decaf. His awkward demeanor was back for no reason, but she figured it must have been their little rendezvous in the car earlier. 

“So,” she began. He looked up from his treasured pretzels, steeling himself for what she was about to say. “I’m really sorry, Sergio.”

He gave her a smile of assurance, coinciding with what she just needed. “No. I’m sorry I wasn’t willing to listen.” 

She gazed at his eyes, the most earnest pieces of the soul she had seen through, and nodded as she tightly smiled. “I admit there was a fissure in your point. But I made a mistake, too. I didn’t mean to disregard your emotional stress on the possibilities of cancellations. Your ambition matters. You matter to me more than anything else in the world.” 

He reached over the table for her hand, and gently squeezed it. “I know. And I trust you.”

Raquel slightly held her head back, as if she couldn’t grasp the fact that he had said those words. She felt her heart beating against her rib cage. “With the job?”

He nodded. 

She shook her head in euphoric disbelief. “Are you sure?”

He nodded again. This time, smiling with sincere support. 

She let out a small cackle, “Even if it means me losing my cozy corner office, my position, a quarter of my salary…”

Sergio bent over the table and sealed her lips with a soft kiss. He perched himself back on the couch, cautiously looking around then easing himself when he realized they were the only people there, and the cashier didn’t seem to care. “I understand, and I take accountability in pushing you away. I know how much this means to you; to go back from where you had started your career. What you consider the fulfillment of yours, I take it as mine, too.”

 _Growth_ , he embellished in his mind. He was glad he meant it well, that he was willing to grow with her. Out with the past, in with the present—the greatest gift life had given him. _Love,_ the one he had found in Raquel, and with the grace from the heavens, in Paula, as well. 

"I'm really sorry for being so selfish at first, stubborn at second," he apologized. 

Holding out a chuckle, she took a piece of his treasured pretzel. "Hell, I was being stubborn, too."

"Yeah. Well, _good wits doe jumpe."_

She snickered at his bookish approach to the situation, and he reflected the same chortle, but it died right away as he grabbed a hold of his coffee mug.

"Raquel, I just want you to know I will never get tired of supporting you. And I know you make your own decisions, so I've come to terms with the fact that everything you do in life is up to you. I'm just here to be by your side along the way," he ascertained her.

It warmed her heart with a pledge of doubtlessness. "Look, if you want to talk about anything from your frustrations from the field, I'm here, too. You know that best." 

They had wrecked down the walls in between, and they were starting to build a new one around the both of them. Sergio had been baffled by his downfall for years, and hearing this from her for probably the millionth time gave him the assurance that it will be all worth it in the end. 

"I'm just so happy things are starting to fall into place," he said, taking her hand once again. 

"Just like where they've always been," she added, keeping up with her coffee with the other hand.

If that was all it took to give back the color that had been painting over the paleness of her face with so much life, he should've known better sooner than he had. 

_…_

Alicia had called when they were making their way out of the cafeteria. Paula was doing well, considering she had been spoiled with so many sweets Raquel almost wanted to strangle her friend through the phone line. Thankfully she just got off with a warning about her daughter's sugar intake levels and a brief lecture about how a six-year-old should have no more than nineteen grams of daily sugar allowance, which made Sergio suppress a snicker and almost suggested his wife should lower her daily allowance of intake of rigorous conforming to principles. 

The rest of the ride to Boston was quiet—not the _I wanna get out of here_ type of quiet, but the lighter and more comfortable one they had been missing. He had been taking his chances at glancing back and forth between her and the road, and Raquel had been freely singing along to almost every track that came on the radio. So, it wasn’t exactly quiet; at least the tension was released at that very moment.

As they headed out of Oakville, his phone rang, and he had to ask her to pick it up from his back pocket for reasons given by the circumstances.

The caller ID read his boss, Ms. Townsend, and she put it on the loudspeaker.

Her raspy voice came through his phone, " _Marquina, they're pulling out someone from the cast because of a scandal. You need to come back to New York."_

What initially worried Raquel was how her team would have to make adjustments for tonight's sequence, as she left them on their own with her substitute from the morning news. Surely, this unexpected news could make it to the cut.

Sergio almost hit the brakes as he turned to her in restraint, marked by the inability to react in an instant. Raquel didn't even try to hide her disappointment. 

Just as when things were going smoothly, another hurdle had decided to show up out of nowhere.

 _Great,_ she thought to herself. _Just great._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do you guys recognize the song? thanks for reading!


	6. Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, thank you yels for illustrating this chapter. ily. If you wanna check it out, it's on my twitter (@witchmurillo) enjoy, everyone!!

_Sergio's presence was cordially regarded by his fiancée leaning onto the kitchen island, who had changed into a pair of his shirt and boxers he thought he had misplaced the previous night._

_"Good morning. Happy birthday," Raquel greeted with a sweet smile. Taking in her hazy figure, he sleepily approached her, pulled her waist as close as he could, and kissed her long enough to have her legs wrapped around him._

_"Hmm, enough of this," she tried to utter against his mouth, then he put her down reluctantly. "We still have breakfast to cook."_

_He scrunched his face. "Wait. We?"_

_She nodded encouragingly. "I'm thinking of gourmet mushroom risotto. Your favorite."_

_He backed away, hands in the air. "No, Raquel. You know how I messed up the last dish we cooked together."_

_"You were drunk at that time," she said with her eyebrows raised._

_"You know I cannot trust myself with cooking since then."_

_"Maybe it's time you should. I'm imparting you a portion of my kitchen skills. Consider this a birthday gift," she winked, bringing out some utensils from the cupboard to accompany the ingredients in separate bowls she had ready on the counter._

_Sergio stood behind her as she started warming the broth in the saucepan. "Now, the olive oil in another saucepan so we can proceed with the mushrooms. Medium-high," she advised casually._

_"I'm doing it?" He asked nervously, pointing a finger to his chest._

_She turned around and pouted her lips, "Come on, you can do it. Don't you want us cooking together?"_

_"Of course I do! Wait, uh, I'll try," he nodded as he lifted a hand to adjust his glasses._

_The whole thing was just Raquel trying not to laugh as she gently and patiently instructed him with the procedures and made sure every measurement was made precisely as possible, and Sergio clumsily but carefully followed every step. After that, he was already seasoning the dish with salt and pepper with the ease he had found in her supervision, and he dug with a spoon to taste._

_"How bad is it?" He asked, savoring the dish. But he knew it was rather alright than bad. In fact, it almost tasted like the one she would cook by herself._

_She grabbed the spoon from his hand and took a small quantity to ascertain its flavor. She shook her head. "No," she said while patting his cheek, "not bad at all. It's perfect."_

_He beamed and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Thanks for making my day extra special."_

_"Tsk. That's not even a quarter of my gift," she said against his chest._

_"There's more?"_

_She held on tighter with a playful smile. "Of course. It's the weekend! We have all the time to–"_

_But then his phone on the table rang in a tone that had Raquel feeling a little exasperated as she unwrapped her arms around his back and let him answer it with a heavy sigh._

_“Hello?... Speaking…Yes…I have already filed a request...But it was already finalized…Are you sure?... I sent it to you last week...Do I really need to go? But…Fine...I’ll be there but I can’t promise I’ll stay longer...Thank you.”_

_He hung up with his hands on his waist, suppressing a look of disappointment._

_“Is it about work?” She asked as she came up to his side near the kitchen table._

_“Just give me two hours,” Sergio replied, thumbing the space between his eyebrows. “There’s something I have to fix.”_

_“It’s your birthday. You’re free to do whatever you want,” she said with a hint of rueful longing that she tried to hide with a smile._

_“I’m so sorry,” he said, rubbing her shoulders. “I know we haven't seen each other all week, but I will make it up to you.”_

_She slid her arms around his neck to kiss him. “Go get ready. I’ll stay here and wait.”_

...

There was an itching impulse in him that wanted to stop the car, unbuckle his seatbelt, and walk back and forth on the highway. He tried to control himself, but he couldn't seem to focus with his mind swirling in a tightening gyre that had so much pressure his breaths fluctuated instantaneously in mismatched patterns with the beating of his heart. 

_Keep going,_ Sergio reminded himself. But his own words were not enough. Some things like this were just simply out of his hands and it infuriated him. His wife’s disconcerted scrutiny stalking him in every inflection of his body language didn’t help, either.

He was not oblivious of where the thoroughfare would lead them to; the streets to pass, landmarks to take note of, boulevards, and avenues to pursue, but his mind ran overhead in a seemingly endless rain band of a hurricane. There was no way to avoid the fact that he was stuck between work and his personal life, which he had just started fixing. He wanted to keep up with the show’s success and reputation as he had tried to direct every inch of it on the right path, but he also didn’t want to miss the only time he could be with his family out of town. Especially when he was gradually making it up to Raquel. Besides, Alicia would be furious at him for not attending her exhibit.

Me. Townsend’s voice went on a muffled urgency as she discussed the subject under consideration. _“This is about the psychological harassment accusations against Eric McAfee by his manager, Nara Santiago. Apparently, there had been a – Marquina, are you really there?”_

On the other end of the line, the executive of the biggest media conglomerate in New York fidgeted her pen in the acrylic table that stretched halfway through the conference room. Her chipped nails scratching the cold metal of the pen, she stared at her phone while pondering what would happen if she would elapse the contract of one of _The Runaway Debutante_ ’s supporting actors, who quivered across the table along with a few of his co-actors and the crew. There was clearly no progress on the meeting without Sergio, who had his rights exercised on handling the show. 

Back at the car, Raquel frowned as she held out the phone between them. She knew all of this; how his mind would spiral every time a mere inconvenience would occur. She was wondering how he kept up with their route despite having to deal with his state of mind. There was an understanding that this was important as well, so she urged him to speak with the persuasion she held in her gaze. But to no avail, he just pinned his eyes on the road and bit his lower lip so hard it almost bled. She took note of it. This wasn’t looking good for him. 

“Sergio, are you okay?” She whispered, finally making him shake his thoughts and clear his throat. He took a helpless glance at her and slightly leaned in to speak on the phone. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he clarified with a heavy sigh. 

_“Good, ‘cause now we just need your signed approval of his immediate removal and replacement-”_

“Ms. Townsend, if that’s the case my co-producer may fill in for me,” Sergio cut off deliberately. No, he wasn’t going to miss the exhibit, much less his time with Raquel and Paula. This was his only opportunity to get off from work and finally cut loose of his stress. He didn’t know how, but something in Raquel’s gaze made him slow down and carefully think of even his smallest decisions. “I’m pretty sure Wendall’s confirmation in black and white would be enough.” 

_“Look, Sergio. We’re currently voting on the termination of his contract as he had violated the policies and conditions that came with it. It would be more convenient to have you here so we can mitigate further delays on opening the auditions for his substitute and your shooting schedule.”_

He took a quick glance at Raquel and went back to sticking his eyes to the road ahead as they passed under the Merriam District on the expressway. “I don’t think I can make it on time if I go back. I’m afraid we’ll have to dismiss the auditions. We still have options, you know. We can give this role to someone more credible. Just not with the formalities now, that’s not gonna happen.”

“Are you sure?” Raquel mouthed from her seat, still wearing the frown thrown by a consummated confusion. It was unusual for Sergio to cancel any business related to his show given his determination to keep it on its track to be a hit. 

He turned to her again and willfully gave her a quick downward motion with his head. Then to the phone, he said, “Ma’am this is a family event and I cannot omit my presence.”

_“If...If that’s the case, then I am still proceeding with McAfee’s termination and expect your formal bearing with the requirements by Tuesday.”_

Sergio willfully nodded, as if Ms.Townsend could see his initial response. “Yes, Ma’am, I can assure you that.” 

The executive sent her regards and hung up with a quick beep, and Raquel kept his phone in her pocket so as to not distract him, as if she wasn’t enough distraction to him already. She coughed slightly to express a little hesitation to go on, “That’s a pretty bold thing you did back there. You seemed tense. Is everything okay?” 

“I guess so,” Sergio replied as he tried to ease himself. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back? I mean, you can still get a train ticket and the exhibition is tomorrow, anyway. You can catch up.” 

“And let you drive by yourself on the way right after we made up? No.” 

Raquel sneered, “That’s so sweet of you.” 

“Uh, is it?” He asked innocently whilst breaking into a shy smile. 

“God, you don’t pay mindful attention to what's beneath your words, do you?”

“Uh, Sometimes,” he responded with utter tentativeness. 

She let out a chuckle, “Alright. I’ll stop messing with you.” 

“You were messing with me?”

“You were taking that seriously?”

He scowled, “Why would I not?”

She rolled her eyes mockingly, “Sometimes, you give me a headache.”

“Why?”

“Kidding. Just try to relax, okay?”

And he did with lesser hesitation.

“Alright,” she breathed out as she receded back to a more comfortable position on her seat, then stuck her head to her side to face him. “So, what force of nature made you deny Ms. Townsend’s request for your prominent presence in a very important assembly?”

He looked at her with a proud smile. “You.”

Her cheeks went bright crimson.

“With Alicia’s excessive and unnecessary blabbering about how I have the inability to keep my word.”

“Uh-uh,” she replied, raising her eyebrows. 

“And Paula’s tantrums about my absences.”

She snickered with satisfaction, her eyes glimmering with a subtle sparkle. “I was waiting for that."

…

The lobby of the five-star hotel had its sparse classical detailing on the monumental window panes and obviously fresh Persian rugs, and instead, it incorporated rudiments of geometrical surfaces. The accent colors, however, were gentle to the eye, the jazz music soft and calming. There was already a hint of home at how it exploded with convenience and good ambiance, with the smile of the concierge warm and inviting as he appeared on the doorway and ushered them to the marble front desk to confirm their reservation. 

Raquel and Sergio settled their admiration for a short while, unbelievably staring at where Alicia had booked a specifically-designated suite for the three of them. 

"This is so nice but don't you think this is too impractical for a two-night stay?" Sergio asked while slinging his gym bag on his shoulder.

"Alicia knows the owner, apparently. We can pay for it," Raquel reminded him as she started texting the woman in question, wondering where she had gone with Paula.

He frowned, "You sure we got to the right hotel?"

"Sure, we did. Come on, you should get out of your bubble of practicality and enjoy it for once. And look, you can hit the gym if you want to," she replied, gesturing to the left-wing. 

Sergio gawked at the numerous displays of fitness equipment placed in a huge transparent room that was visible from the foyer. "Um, are those–" 

"Mommy! Daddy!" Their heads turned in sync at Paula's shrieking that echoed to the vast space they barely occupied. The little girl skipped down the spiral stairs, holding on to the lavish banisters that lined its entire length. Alicia followed behind and wore a mischievous smile of wonder and surprise. 

"There you are. What took you so long, huh?" She asked, steering Paula to the arms of her beaming parents. 

Raquel enveloped her daughter into a quick embrace, "Hi, sweetheart. How was the trip?"

"'Twas fun! Aunt took me to Krispy Kreme and we ate pink donuts," Paula answered while pulling away to cling to her father's arms. "They put fairy lights in my room!” 

"Can't wait to see it, sweetie. C'mon, I'm sure it looks magical," Sergio cheered as he took her upstairs, taking note of her rather adorable fear of elevators. He spared a look at his wife and was about to say something when she held up a palm. “We’ll follow you. Don’t wait up.”

Raquel was then left with Alicia, who couldn't stop smiling despite the exhaustion that clouded her face. She requested a staff member to take care of their baggage and took her friend to the elevator. Nudging Raquel as soon as she put in their floor number, she said, "I'm guessing you guys have made up?"

The other woman tried to suppress a grin and shrugged, "Thanks to your topflight meddling." 

"That's great. And my intervention is no big deal. It's just what I love to do."

Raquel finally smiled. "I'm so excited to see your works tomorrow."

"Thank you, really. It means a lot." She blushed, then shifted to narrow her winged eyes and whisper, "So was the car quickie good or-" 

"Seriously, stop it," her friend shushed as the elevator doors slid open with a ding. 

…

It was a two-bedroom suite that lived up to the fact that it was a straight-up “specifically-designated” one that Alicia had booked. It was split into two spacious havens with elaborate sophistication; the larger one for the couple, and the bright-lit one for their daughter. 

After a night of listening to Paula's endearing stories about donuts, Raquel stayed in their room and kept her eyes on the scene from the window, forming a picturesque silhouette in its frame. Vehicles were circulating the roads like the bloodstream, where its beating was found at the heart of the huge county. The night traffic met the streetlights at an illustrious pace, and it kept her more awake than ever. She tried to blame the coffee, but instead, she rubbed her clavicle under the thick fabric of the robe and closed her eyes to manifest its soothing effect on her nerves. 

“I put Paula to sleep already,” said a placate voice behind her, interrupting her attempt at physical alleviation. Raquel turned around and squinted in the dark for his figure standing by the door. 

“That’s good. Donuts can also make you tired, you know. I can’t believe Alicia had spoiled her too much with those,” she responded, chuckling as she watched him walk towards her in his matching robe. 

“Don’t worry, she hasn’t been spoiled lately,” Sergio assured her, closing the distance between them as he circled her waist. 

She held onto the mass of his shoulders and looked up to meet his gaze. “Sergio, is everything at work okay?” 

“What makes you think it’s not? I’ll handle it.” 

“Well, you panicked.” 

He looked away, “In my case, why wouldn’t I?”

“I just don’t want you pressuring yourself.”

“I’ll try my best not to. I might need it, you know. Somehow, working without pressure makes me counter-productive.”

“I’m sure your show’s going to be a success.”

“It will take a lot of overtime but I’ll make it work.”

“You will always do,” Raquel smiled, but it soon faded away as he slowly leaned in to assure the tactile sense of her lips with his own. 

She made the contact as surreal as possible when she ruthlessly stormed back with such force. They sailed away without yielding their forces to pressure as he trailed kisses on her jaw to her neck then to her collarbone until he provoked a sultry moan out of her throat. 

She inhaled the intoxicating scent of mint in his hair as he started unraveling the knot of her robe for due liberty to claim her chest with his mouth. Before diving straight to the pleasure of the moment when he went all the way down to uncover her waters, all she could remember was the ticklish glide of the robe falling down from her shoulders as sparks dissected her whole body with the fire that was waiting to be ignited since the day they fought. 

…

Guests lined up the side entrance of the gallery as an assistant handed out arty pamphlets to everyone like a ticket. The art gallery’s director Agata Jimenez, who had been hustling overnight to make last-minute arrangements for the exhibit, managed to pull through the crowd as she had been a little late for the call time. 

Almost a hundred people huddled together facing a small escalated stage with a glass podium standing in the middle. Agata rushed quickly to the operator to stop the music in the meantime as they were about to start the opening remarks, barely having the time to stop by her office. 

The main curator stepped on the stage and tested the microphone. He cleared his throat and with a warm welcome, acknowledged everyone who took their time to witness the debut of their great friend and this year’s rising artist, Alicia Sierra. 

Overwhelming applause welcomed the elegantly dolled-up Alicia in a white suit and high heels as she came up. “Thirty years ago today, my mother had her debut in this same exact city. So it’s actually the thirtieth anniversary of her first exhibit,” she proudly announced as another round of applause drowned her trail of words. 

"First of all, I grew up watching my mom do experiments on colors until she dragged me to giving so much admiration to Renoir's works. He was one of the proponents of a style that they had called _unfinished_ and sometimes ridiculous to an extent, the style I have adopted through the years. But I believe with all my heart that not everything has to be finished to be called art. Sometimes, even the slightest impressions of real-life count in the most beautiful and unexpected ways. Art is a free form of expression, anyway. 

So the pieces that I included in this exhibit are the ones that are not so intimate, but rather snapshots of everyday life I can perceive from the accessible view from the veranda of my condo. They don't characterize one's deepest nature, but they depict a practical one that everyone can see themselves in. Lastly, I am sincerely thankful for everyone who came here, especially my friends who have traveled miles to get here to my hometown. I'm really proud to say that I've made it. I hope you can reflect some important things from my art."

Howls and commendations splendidly filled the hall and the director handed her a bouquet as she came down from the stage to embrace teary-eyed Raquel in a pantsuit waiting for her on the side. 

"I'm so proud of you," she said against the artist's shoulder.

Alicia pecked her friend's cheek. "I couldn't have made it without your support." 

Raquel pulled away and held her hand. "I'm sure your mom is really proud of you up there." 

She shrugged with her lips curling into a smile. "Well, if it isn't for her favorite daughter."

Then Alicia felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to have Sergio with his arms open with congratulatory regards. She enclosed him into a quick hug and had Paula clinging onto her out of nowhere. 

"Congrats, Aunt," she whispered in her ear.

"Thanks, baby," Alicia replied, tickling her tummy while she giggled.

Sergio watched them as he slid an arm around Raquel, "Come on, I'll show you around."

The first alley of her exhibit consisted of a series of variations rendering the New York nightlife, with cascading shiftings of light falling onto the streets and the bypassers. It radiated consciousness through the bright vibration of colors with every stroke. Raquel beamed at the pieces. She couldn’t be any prouder of her friend.

“This is her own twist to Impressionism, like the style she would always use in all her paintings. This is _her_ and it’s really intricate,” Sergio uttered in awe, as he stared and studied every element. “Look at the strokes, they’re broken, but somehow with the help of the colors, she made them follow a trail of an intense continuity with the unmixed shades.”

She turned to him, finally having the freedom to say: “Nerd.”

They burst in hushed laughter, then she went after him as he made his way to the second alley. They found Alicia introducing Paula to a tall woman with strong dark features, whom they had seen earlier to be cramming the finishing touches of the setting. 

"Raquel! Sergio!" Alicia called as she waved her hand, then turned to the woman to say something. Paula spotted them and ran to take her mom by the wrist as she curiously examined the paintings on the wall as they approached. 

Agata Jimenez was her name, and she happened to be the debutante’s romantic partner, which explained why Alicia had requested her exhibit to be held in this gallery besides the fact that she grew in the city. She held out her hand to shake the couple’s, exclaiming with pleasantries at how ideal Raquel and Sergio seemed to be, since they were basically in the field of media together, and how they have raised such a wonderful daughter.

“Uhm, I guess so,” Sergio shyly answered. “And yes, we have a meticulous parenting style that we both agreed to impose.”

“And it’s working so well, so far,” Raquel added, hooking her hand to her husband’s arm. 

“Would you care to share the next time we see each other?” Agata asked with enthusiasm. 

Alicia shot her a frown, “We never talked about children. I thought we were taking this slow?!” 

The director nudged her, “Calm down. It’s for my sister’s son.” 

Raquel smiled at the both of them, pleasantly settled with the fact that Alicia might have found the love of her life despite being allergic to romance. After a few exchanges of pleasantries, Agata excused herself from the conversation to talk and arrange something with the curator. 

Alicia studied them for a while as a smile formed on her face, “You might want to see the last alley of the exhibit,” she said, guiding the family towards the wall near the back entrance. 

“Surprise,” she said as she gestured to the gigantic piece on the wall, walking away to give them the moment of their own. 

Despite the obscured form of the strokes, they could see it was a painting of a familiar young girl standing by a flower field, shafts of sunlight rays on her face, it’s changing course evident on the different shades in the background. It reminded Raquel of how her daughter loved flowers and she would love to take her there if she’d have the time. She hoped there would be. 

Sergio stared at the piece, mists forming in his eyes. _Paula,_ it read on the placard at the bottom of the frame. Indeed it was for her. He took in the labyrinthine composition of the illumination, which made her skin golden. It was sophisticated. Complex. Beautiful. Even if it was merely an impression on the canvas, it captured the youthful wonder and happiness their child had brought to their lives. 

He smiled as he pulled out his phone from his satchel and leveled it to his wife, who was gaping at her friend’s most treasured work. He took a shot. Just one shot, as he couldn’t help but actually stare at the works of art in front of him.

“Raquel,” he called, and she turned around with tears pooling her eyes. “Look at this.”

She grabbed the phone from him, which was seemingly a good opportunity to reminisce about something from a few years ago. “That’s just my hair and my back and a portion of the painting.”

As oblivious as his nature was, he still managed to take the hint. “But you’re a beautiful shot, aren’t you?” 

Raquel almost broke down as she leaned on to his chest, both of their hands on their daughter’s shoulders as she fixed her eyes at her Aunt’s work. 

“Mommy, Daddy, this is my favorite now,” she said in amazement after seeing herself in the painting. 

Raquel kneeled down to face her, “It’s our favorite, too, sweetie.”

Sergio's gaze lingered at the both of them and thought of the only word he could associate from the moment.

_Home._

He wished they could stay the same until the end. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!


	7. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it’s been a while since the last update. i’m so sorry. i’ve been so busy with school and my personal crises. thank you so much for hanging on! i can’t believe we’re half-way through.
> 
> this chapter is for all the writers out there. It's okay to take a break, but as long as the fire inside you is burning, never run out pages and never put the pen down. 
> 
> this is also for everyone who's going through their tough times. i see you. i’m with you. hugsies!
> 
> also, thank you, yel, for once again illustrating this chapter. and meg, keep your story going.

The whole duration of the Sunday they spent in Boston was just a haze to him—the photoshoots at Boston Harbor, the visiting of quaint book sales by the road, and Alicia’s celebration of her launch when some of their friends came over. The elation was still there, but what he remembered was just a passing fragment of the blurry sequences that happened just hours ago.

There was a pulse—a long, unbearable one that resided in his head. It died out for a second, then came back splitting his brain into two for a full minute. It went on and off, like the involuntary blinking of his eyelids was the switch of a dysfunctional circuit. His senses acted like the electrons halting to a stop whenever there was a break in his circuit full of substantial and genuine intellect. He had his eyes tightly shut since he had to shield them from more sensory input by the haze of the vehicles and mirages on the road.

Sergio tried to distract himself by listening to Raquel’s chattering as she drove them back to New York, completely unaware of his current state as her eyes were peering on the road.

“...What do you think?” she asked, casually moving her head to the beat of the music that was playing on the radio.

He opened his eyes to her blurry figure and thumbed his forehead as he uttered, “I...What?”

She turned to him, keeping her voice low so as to not disturb their sleeping Paula in the backseat. “Uhm, about taking Paula to The Louvre for her birth—oh, Sergio! What’s happening?”

He quietly processed her question, the throbbing in his head striking stronger minute by minute. “Can you...turn off the radio?” he managed to say.

She did as he said, then quickly went back to her business on the road. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Sergio felt his voice stuck in his throat, but he still tried to croak an answer. He wanted to end this as soon as possible, to flush down whatever was making his head sore and his sinuses clogged. If only there was a way. “Uh…”

“Wait, we’ll be home in an hour,” she assured him, sensing the impatience and irritation in him. She took his travel thermos from its handle then handed it to him without taking her eyes off their route. “Here, have some water.”

Sergio took it with urgency, twisting it open as he tried to catch his breath. It was the dehydration, he figured as he drained his thermos in desperation, though he wasn’t certain of it. How many glasses of water had he taken today? He tried to calculate despite the breach in his mind circuit; he had one when he woke up, two before working out in the gym by the hotel lobby in Boston, one in lunch, then…five drinks of brandy from their little get together in Alicia’s house before they left. What was it in brandy that could cause dehydration again? Ah, tannins and acetaldehyde, the culprit of his agony as he remembered he had a low tolerance to its induction. He had almost forgotten how they could lower the serotonin levels and eventually cause headaches. Why hadn’t he thought of this upon consumption? He didn’t know.

He made a mental note of controlling himself when he sees the damn drink again or maybe asking Raquel to nag him out of his temptations since he could only listen to her. But there was an uncertainty of that note sticking and registering into his mentality as of the moment for he was still in excruciating pain.

Very well, then. The weather wasn’t helping either, since it was the most frigid one they had for the month. He hated cold temperatures like this, that’s why he always went for his thick Italian suits. Sergio loved them so much and he was so accustomed to the comfort it brought him as opposed to the coldness of the air. 

He started shivering and asked Raquel to adjust the air-conditioner, which she was more than willing to do for him as she threw concerned looks in his direction. She figured it could be the common cold he would catch at least once a year, then started to furiously drive to get them home as soon as possible so that he could rest comfortably.

Sergio dozed off to a nap, and she stopped the car for a moment to recline his seat and check on Paula who was slowly opening her eyes to the gleam of the sunset. Right, if it was the cold that was making her husband grunt in his sleep, then their daughter might as well catch it due to her exposure.

“Hi, sweetie. How are you?” she smiled from the driver’s seat to the back as she restarted the engine.

Paula rubbed her eyes and squinted to the road ahead. “Mommy, are we home yet?”

“In a short while, baby. Listen, you still have that little thermos in your backpack, right?”

Paula nodded. “Yes, Mommy,” she answered quietly. 

“Okay. I think it’s time for you to hydrate yourself, yes?” Raquel gently

“But, why?”

“Sweetheart, you might need it since Daddy might have caught a cold and it’s quite contagious.”

Paula frowned.“Contagious?”

“Uhm, it might spread to your system, too, since you’ve made direct contact with him even before he started showing the symptoms.”

“Symptoms?”

“Those are the indications if someone is sick, darling.”

“Indications?”

Raquel chuckled at how adorable her daughter sounded with her curiosities. “Those are the signs itself, sweetie. Do you have any further questions?

“One last,” Paula shyly answered.

“What is it, sweetie?”

“If Daddy did catch a cold, can’t he just throw it out of the window?”

She adoringly looked back at the little girl who had her eyes wide with innocence, still waiting for a comprehensive answer to her question.

“Paula, sweetie,” she tried to suppress a laugh, “that’s not how sicknesses work in general.”

“How, then?”

“As for Daddy, it might take a day or two before he gets better, or at least that’s what I have observed for the past years. It depends on the person. For some, it might take a week. For you, it takes at least three days. For me, it’s two, but Mommy’s really strong. And do you know how to make Daddy feel better?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged.

“How does a nurse duty sound to you?”

Paula’s eyes widened. “I’m going to be a nurse?”

“Exactly. That way, we can take care of him until he’s well.”

“I’d love that, Mommy!” the little girl exclaimed. 

Raquel put a finger on her lips. “Shhh. Dad’s still sleeping.”

“I’d love that, Mommy,” she whispered, and they both burst into hushed laughter. 

…

They were home, and Sergio was sprawled on the couch with a blanket all over his body and Raquel helping him finish his mushroom soup. His head was resting on a throw pillow on the armrest while Paula slept on the adjacent sofa, still fulfilling her “nurse duty”. 

“Has the contraction in your head subsided?” she asked him, dabbing the sides of his mouth with a cloth. 

“Yeah,” he answered drowsily as he sniffed. “I’m feeling better now.”

He squeezed her hand as she was about to reach for his glass of water. “Thank you.”

She smiled, then pursed her lips. “It’s nothing. Just don’t touch a glass of brandy next time.” 

“I was expecting for you to say that.” 

“...And mix your hangover with a cold.” 

“Of course,” he chuckled weakly. 

She let go of his hand and put the tip of the glass of water to his lips, her other hand under his chin so as to not let it spill on his shirt. He drained the glass, gasping as he threw his head on the pillow. 

“Okay, I’m just gonna carry our little nurse to bed then I’ll take you to the shower.” She gave his shoulder a light squeeze then stood up, crouched over Paula’s sleeping figure, put her hand under her legs and the other supporting her back, and lifted the girl to her room. 

Raquel came back and took him by his armpits to help him sit up as he held onto her arm, then let him stand on his own. She hooked her arm around his on the way to the bathroom.

“Can you do it?” she gently asked him, helping him undress then tossing his clothes to the box hamper. 

“I guess so,” he replied, his voice low and faint.

“Are you sure?” 

“Raquel, you’ve been managing everything around the house. Have some rest. I’ll be fine.”

She hesitated but nodded eventually. “Alright, then. Just let me know if you need some assistance.” She closed the door of their bathroom and waited until she heard the shower open for her to proceed to the kitchen. 

Raquel hummed her way through the dishes, then took out his antihistamine tablets from the cupboard with a glass of water readied. She hauled out their stuff from the suitcases and set the clothes for tomorrow’s laundry. 

She was indeed tired, and this was not how she expected spending the rest of the weekend with him now that they have made up. Everyone in the house was completely exhausted, and the prospect made her drop her elbows on the kitchen counter to seize her distress. She hoped Sergio would get well anytime soon, she was having a hard time looking after him and looking at him like that: completely tucked out in his physical restraints. 

It didn’t take long for him to finish showering and he went out of the bathroom to his pajamas already sprawled on the bed. He carefully put each piece of clothing and Raquel came in holding his tablets and water, nodding to the items as he was buttoning his shirt. 

“Here, take this,” she reminded him, placing the tray on the bedside table.

“Thanks,” he regarded, brushing her waist with his hand. He did as she said, then let her tuck him under the covers, letting the comfort of home pleasantly shroud him.

After taking a shower, Raquel spotted his shirt on the floor, with the blanket below his waist as he slept. He must have felt warm and uncomfortable, which was usual from him when he would get sick. She climbed on the bed beside him, putting the sheets over the both of them, then let him unconsciously snuggle to her chest. She pulled him close and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, love,” she whispered to his ear. 

  
  


...

  
  


The city could never sleep and Sergio couldn’t either. He flung his eyes open to the gleam of the nightlight that they forgot to turn off before they went to sleep. He stretched his neck to check the time: 1:37 am according to the digital clock on the bedside table. His head was clear, the painful throbbing gone. He still felt dizzy though, rubbing his eyes as it adjusted to the semi-darkness. 

What a miracle. He was able to look around without his sight obscured—well, by the headache as he was already unable to see fine detail even without it. He fumbled for his glasses, then let it rest on his nose, which wasn’t runny anymore. _There. Much better._

Raquel’s leg was resting across his waist and he gently lifted her thigh off so he could sit up. He was surprised he did it with ease. He pulled the sheets up to her shoulders, put his feet on the floor, and tiptoed out of the room.

Sergio quietly swiveled Paula’s door open to check on her. He wasn’t able to give her daughter a kiss goodnight, so he bent down to leave one on her hair and fixed the sheets over her. 

He quickly went back to their bedroom and was relieved to find his wife still sleeping soundly as he pulled the curtains to slide the windows open.

There was air, a thin mist of pollution, and just the usual reeking of New York atmosphere circling through it, and he slowly breathed it in. All of the heaviness that the past week had thrown on his shoulders faded to just a void in his heart that was starting to fill with a kind of purity and rightness that only love could provide. He truly missed Raquel and he felt a warmth inside that they were back in each other’s arms. 

If only he wasn’t so stupid to believe in the tiny probability of an _oversight_ ; that her career would be neglected or something—he knew she wasn’t capable of that. Hell, she would do everything just not to put anything on the ropes. That was something he wasn’t able to do in his past, and it still haunted him to his core. He tried not to go down that spiral and reminded himself that this wasn’t about him. This was about _Raquel_ and her taking a huge leap in her workspace. And that was something he was genuinely proud of. 

“What are you doing? You’re supposed to be resting,” uttered the voice right behind him. Sergio suddenly felt Raquel’s fingertips on his skin and arms around the circumference of the mass of his bare chest. 

He took a deep sigh of contentment and looked over his shoulder, “Raquel, go back to bed.”

“ _You_ go back to bed,” she ordered, her voice muffled against his back. “Are you feeling better now?” 

He squeezed her hand on his chest. “Yeah, I guess.”

She sighed and pressed her lips on his shoulder blade. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Back in your arms, no?”

“Back to your _senses_ , yes.” 

They both chuckled, but her smile didn’t linger as she was already clouded with drowsiness. “Sergio, we should really go back to bed. It’s Monday.”

He shook his head. “I can’t sleep.” 

“Then we can just talk if you want. In bed.”

Sergio rolled his eyes. “ _Talk._ ”

She frowned. “Why? Is there something else on your mind?”

He looked back at her and shook his head. “Nada.”

She raised her eyebrows. 

“I–”

Raquel stifled a giggle, “I’m kidding. You’re not the only one who’s tired, you know. I practically did twice of what I’m supposed to do if you weren’t beaten out by what seemed to be a miraculously fleeting cold. Maybe it was just the weather.” 

A flush of guilt ran to his cheeks as she loosened her arms around him. “Raquel, I’m sorry it cost you so much load of work.”

When she finally let go of him, she fiddled with his hand and led him to bed. “I don’t mind. Not at all. Besides, it was fun seeing you as a baby.” 

He chortled. Before they could throw themselves on the bed, she ran a hand on his arm as they stood facing each other. “Sergio, I need to ask you something.”

He frowned and leaned closer. “What is it?”

“About Paula’s birthday,” she replied, biting her lower lip. “We weren’t able to discuss it back in the car.”

Then a thought dawned on him. Right, it was three weeks away, and they would usually plan something big as a surprise—whether it’s a trip to Barcelona, their hometown, or a vacation to Florence, they never missed a spot when it came to her. 

This time though, he remembered he had thought of something else last week, he just wasn’t able to share with her; something their child would have embellished in her heart, and he was sure Raquel would love it. 

“I may have something planned,” he said, tucking some strands of her behind her ear. 

Her eyes lit up. His plans were not something she would outgrow from in their marriage. “Tell me about it.” 

He kissed her knuckles. “Later.”

She whined and stomped her feet. “But–”

“Who’s the baby now?” he teased. 

“Fine,” she whispered, rolling her eyes. “Later, then. just promise me she's gonna love it.”

He held his palm up. "Cross my heart."

A laugh settled them on the edge of the bed, and they studied each other’s faces in the dark, gazes lingering at the way their faces gleamed in the half-light of the room. It was the first time they could look at each other in their own space of intimacy at home since their misunderstanding, and _god,_ everything felt so right. 

Sergio drew his face toward hers so he could feel the warmth of her breath against his own. A pause had them breathing each other. Then Raquel finally sealed their lips together as he took her in his arms. He opened his mouth, and a swift succession of movements led them to their utmost piety of tasting the sweetness they have been sharing for years now. 

Not long after, clothes were being thrown on the floor as they weaved their bodies together to a pattern only the both of them could interpret.

 _This_ was for every eye contact, every touch, every kiss, and every inch of nearness they deprived each other of. It had just been a short strand of time, but the electricity that crawled on their spines felt like they hadn’t touched each other for centuries. 

Raquel surrendered herself to him, a trickling rush of tides on the trenches of her senses as they had their tongues entangled. Sergio hovered above her, admiring the outlines of her moonlit face. She ran her hand on the bulk of his chest, and it didn’t take long for her to dig puddles of pleasure on his skin with her fingernails as he traced a path down her abdomen. And from there, he witnessed the profound rightness—or maybe wetness. He gasped in delight.

He pressed his face to her flesh, devouring every soul of her seven reincarnations, making her sculpt an arch with her spine as she moaned in absolute pleasure. 

By the time she had finished with a salacious groan that she tried so hard to hush down, she rolled him down on his back and straddled him, taking him inch by inch. She started to move, and he held on to her waist for his dear life.

It was an art they had mastered, an art that hadn’t been abandoned in the ruins of a gothic edifice as it was restored by such skilled hands of two people under the infinite spell of love. She wished they could stay like this forever, completely unbothered by the ruthlessness of the world. 

“Oh, Raquel,” he grunted, and she flung her palm to his lips to shut him up, then bent down to kiss him. 

The only sounds in the room were their bodies colliding with every rebound and the vibrations of their moans they had tried really _hard_ to suppress. In the proficiency in synchronization they had been taught by the nature of their love, mouth against mouth, they reached the peak of the mountain they made an effort to climb, tiny bits of sweat embedding on their skin and spasms whipping their bodies with delight. 

Raquel collapsed over him, shivering. “I can’t believe you just did that post-physical distress. Drink some water before you go to sleep.”

He breathlessly kissed her and wrapped his arms around her body for warmth. “I love you.”

She didn’t say it back, but he knew when she smiled and caressed his cheeks with her eyes gleaming in the dark that he had received his utmost response. And for eleven wholesome years, she had been saying it in her most beautiful ways. 

  
  


…  
  


In her room, Paula hugged herself tighter after hearing the muffled pounding in her parents’ bedroom—she was pretty sure it was from their room—so she hovered her blanket above her head. “Maybe it’s the monster,” she whispered to herself in astonishment. She couldn’t believe it. She sang her mom’s lullaby to herself until she drifted back to sleep. 

...

  
  


Then came Monday, when the both of them needed to burst their bubbles of pleasure and indulge themselves with piles of paperwork. Raquel was deeply infuriated with the rush of the movements in front of her. Well, this was the normalcy in the news department; always inched by precision and punctuality. God, she couldn’t wait to actually go back to film and drama. 

She spent the whole morning scurrying from door to door, flipping scripts and contracts, making sure the pieces of equipment were functional and in good condition, and checking on the reporters. She had never been so exhausted. 

It was lunchtime when her enthusiasm was restored, and without a doubt, it was the time she was mostly looking forward to. Until a technical error happened with the network, and she was back in her office with her crankiness.

 _I’m not sure if I can make it to our date,_ she texted Sergio.

 _It’s fine. I’ll just have food delivered to your office, then,_ he replied. 

Thirty minutes later, Monica knocked on her office door with a box of salad and his travel thermos containing the coffee Sergio made her. 

Raquel smiled at the note stuck on the thermos, which was written in his neat handwriting. 

_Hi. Eat something :)_

“Such a romantic,” said Monica, pulling her friend to an embrace. “I’m glad you’ve made up.”

Raquel blushed. “Yeah. Thank you so much.”

It was enough to remind her of her fulfillment of a job done with such excellence that only she could attain. 

  
  


...

  
  


Raquel went home at nine o’clock sharp to a huge paper box by the door. A card was stuck on top of it: _Sergio Marquina,_ it read. A frown formed on her face as she took off her coat. 

“Sergio!” she called out, and he emerged from Paula’s room in his pajamas. 

“Hi,” he said, walking towards her to give her a peck on both cheeks. “I was just about to read Paula a new book before she sleeps. Have you eaten?”

“I have, yes,” she answered, then she gestured to the box on the floor, both her eyebrows raised in curiosity. 

Sergio had his eyes wide open. “Oh, about that.”

“What’s this?” she asked, taking off her heels and running a hand through her hair. 

“Remember what I told you about Paula’s birthday?” 

She nodded, her eyes narrowing, then jolting to a realization. “Oh, is that the gift? It came so early!”

“Not exactly.”

He bent down to open the box and hauled out a stack of books; some hardcovers and a few small paperbacks. 

“A book shopping spree?” she guessed. 

He shook his head, and she figured why. 

The titles were: _The Whole Brain-Child, Parenting with Love and Logic, Positive Parenting,_ and a lot more books about parenting. Of all the million places she could imagine them traveling to and all the gifts she had pictured wrapping with exultation, she hadn’t thought of this, not even for a second. 

“Sergio…”

He stood up, clutching her hands together. “I think it’s time we focus more on Paula’s well-being and keep up with our job of letting her grow in the right way. These books will be our guide because I want Paula not to be perfect, but to feel loved in every way. I...I never experienced that much affection from my father. It was hard, Raquel. It was hard to sleep every night thinking whether Dad meant those words that,” his chin trembled, “that made me feel weak. He pressured and pushed me to do my best until I was at my worst. It made me doubt if he cared about my feelings. I still believe he loved me though, but he wasn’t just sure how to show it. I don’t want that to happen to Paula. I want her to grasp how important she is to us, and I thought these books might help. These talk about discipline, affection of sorts, and many things that I am willing to learn because you know parenting is not my strong suit and I just want the best for our daughter.”

Raquel’s eyes welled up. “Oh, Sergio…” She trailed off, wiping off the tears that fell on his cheeks. Her heart ached for him, and she had almost forgotten how he was grilled by so much tension whenever he failed in high school, and that it affected him until now. She put their foreheads together. “You’re doing your best, and you will never come close to being a bad father. You’ve learned from your dad’s mistake. And I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

"Don't be sorry." He entwined their hands together and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

She shook her head. “No, thank _you._ This is so thoughtful of you. So, so, so thoughtful and sweet.”

He pulled his head off hers and crouched down to sort out a few titles from the rest, and piled them on the carpet. “I ordered some editions of each book because they have red jacket covers. Uh, your favorite color.” 

Raquel giggled through her tears. _Sergio will always be Sergio_.

He stood up and adjusted his glasses. “Oh, Paula’s waiting in bed. You wanna join us?”

She brushed her hand through his cheek. “Like there's a reason not to."

…

The night lights were on and warmth was reflected on their faces as a huge storybook was spread out in front of them. Sergio and Raquel rested on their sides with Paula beaming in between them, marveling through the last page of her new book. 

“Was it a happy ending?” she asked, her head swiveling between her parents. 

Sergio nodded, “It was. But the princess went through so many curses just to find the love of her life, which was the other princess from a faraway kingdom.”

“Why did she have to fight through so many spells and witches and curses when she can just sleep and rest her feet? She must be tired from finding the other princess.”

Raquel caressed her daughter’s cheek. “You know, Paula, love will always be worth fighting for,” she said, her eyes locking with Sergio on the other side. 

“Another thing,” Paula added. “Did you fight the monster last night?”

Her parents frowned. “What monster?” her mother asked. 

“The one that pounded your wall?”

An awkward realization dawned on the couple’s faces. Raquel shot him a warning, then softened when she turned to Paula. “Yes. Indeed. Mommy and Daddy fought the monster so we could, uh, protect each other.”

“Love will always be worth fighting for,” the little girl recited, reflecting the phrase from her parents’ “experience”. And the night was fully surrounded by bliss. 

…

“Keep it down this time,” Raquel warned him as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed him down the pillows.


	8. Concerned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys! I just turned a year older so in celebration of that, here's an update for everyone. i’ve also updated "Legal Hurricane" and it would mean a lot if you guys check it out. thank you so much for reading my stories.

Living in an autonomous circle in his childhood and limiting himself to choosing between rational options for every decision in his life were the things Sergio had been trying to lay off ever since he met Raquel. Clearly, there was more to life than having to encapsulate himself with the social and physical safety of journals and newspapers just because his father had told him so; so he could do _great_ , not well, because he was pressured to extract every single piece of gold he could see.

Of course, Sergio did. 

He had gone through so much disciplinary discourse with his father just to make him focus on his studies and his studies alone; simply because he was unwillingly set to have the same shape of the footsteps his father had left for him to follow. But it was his pleasure to not even bat an eye on the path. Never in his life had he wanted to be a doctor, anyway.

The determination that was imposed on him whenever he would do something significant in his life never went away, feeding him generous amounts of the hideous cycle of anticipation, doubt, pressure, and disappointment—all four in varied orders depending on the situation. 

Now, it was his turn to be a father. He had only been one for almost seven years and the span might seem to be enough for him to settle, but because a child’s behavior is not perennial and will not always stick around, he still had to adjust from time to time. It’s a part of parenthood. Most of the time, it would feel like working on a futile ground. Sometimes, it would feel like hitting his head on a brick wall. Either way, it was truly a beautiful fulfillment and he didn’t want to waste his time doing the wrong thing. 

That was the reason behind the boxed stack of books for him and Raquel to refer to when it came to raising Paula, because he could only infer from his firsthand experience with his father, but that he didn’t want to look back at. 

That midnight, Sergio and Raquel buried themselves in each other’s arms as they stuck the scent of the fresh books on their noses, eagerly fighting sleep just to take their free time for granted. It was his discretion not to talk about anything related to work to let themselves keep their cool for a while. 

Raquel snuggled on Sergio’s bare chest and flipped a page of the bright red copy of her parenting book. “I told you it’s normal to have imaginary friends at the age of four. It is part of a child’s social development.”

It was her idea to read the books he had hoarded as a way to compensate for the stress his work had been giving him. So far, the night was going well. The thing with his work wasn’t. 

He didn’t have a hard time firing one of the best actors in his show for messing up on set. But the problem was, he _was_ one of the best actors in his show and he contributed to its success more than his team had expected. Now, Sergio had to eventually replace someone as impactful as he was before the actor's psychological harassment issue arose. Only that someone was still no one as of the moment. 

He couldn’t imagine another way of spending the night. Having an adorable story-telling session with their daughter and consecutively making love to Raquel for the past two hours kept his mind off work in the meantime. (He wasn’t able to keep it down. Sergio had to get out and check how Paula was doing with the _monsters._ ) 

They were back in the comfort of the domestic bubble, and neither of them wanted to pop it anytime soon. Sacrificing a few hours of sleep was the only way they could think of if it meant spending more time with each other before they would run back at the slow courses of their jobs. There was no way work could come between them.

“Fine. I was just a little alarmed about Paula’s imaginary friends back then,” Sergio admitted, and Raquel craned her neck to give him a show of raising her eyebrows. 

She remembered how Sergio choked on his paella one time at dinner when their daughter started talking to the empty chair beside her. They let her be, and she had eventually outgrown having them. 

“Really? A _little_ alarmed, you say? I remember you freaking out,” Raquel replied, trying to keep a straight face then cracking up in a hush.

Sergio reached for another book from the bedside table, dodging the remark. “Get back to reading.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, honey.” She chuckled then did as he said under his playful scrutiny. He waited until she could absorb the text for him to drop his foolish dark eyes from observing her soft features under the light of the moment and finally mark his attention on his own copy. 

They spent a few minutes comfortably reading, with her adjusting her head on his chest every ten seconds and his shifting his body every after paragraph. It was quiet. The only sound coming in the room was Raquel’s occasional hum of agreement with every parenting fact she could read. 

“I know you’ll get to this part of the book anytime soon but look,” he blurted out, holding out a page for her to see, “ _Encouraging your child to accomplish a task effectively means having to transfer the element of control to something neutral. Time, for example._ ”

She frowned and leaned her arm on his chest. “Interesting. Elaborate it further.”

“It’s not advisable to nag a child to do something like brushing their teeth or cleaning up their mess. It puts pressure on them,” he replied, caressing her hair then letting his fingers drum their way to her shoulder.

“Of course.”

“So it’s better to let them face a time limit and disguise it as something exciting like _Beat the Clock_ for them to finish a task.”

“I get it. This can actually reduce the power struggle between us and Paula because she won’t think we’re the one telling her to do something, but the clock is.”

“You’re right,” he said, grinning at his wife and taking in their shared understanding.

She sighed and stared at the gleam of his eyes. “We’ll never be the perfect parents but it’s a good thing you initiated to make some efforts to be better.”

“I don’t know why I hadn’t thought about this years ago. But it’s not too late,” Sergio added. “In addition to that, the parenting books smell so good.”

“Of course you’d say that,” Raquel rolled her eyes, closed the book, then buried her face on his neck. “Anyway, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had hoarded _How To Be A Boyfriend_ or _Guide To Being The Best Husband_ kind of books back then.”

He chortled, “Being a boyfriend and a husband made me nervous at first but thankfully, I didn’t get to that point.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You mean well with everything you do. Besides, it’s actually so sweet that you’re like this,” she mused, nuzzling his beard with her nose. 

“Only because there are a million ways to love you and I’m making sure you’ll feel _every_ one of them.”

“Eight years into this marriage and you’re still trying to win me over.”

“I can’t lose you,” he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Not ever.”

“Very competitive,” she commented. 

“That is something I might have gotten from you, thank you very much.”

She shivered at the tip of his fingers sliding on her spine as they laughed. He stopped and tilted his head at her. “Are you cold? Where’s your nightgown?”

She shrugged. “No, I’m not cold.”

He brushed his hand against her arms. “Yes, you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m a bit cold but you threw my nightgown under the bed.”

“I’ll pick it up.”

She pouted. “Thank you so much but can’t you just hold me or something?”

He studied her for a moment, then gave her an adoring smile. “You really love cuddles, don’t you?”

She closed her eyes to feel his touch and nodded so he draped his arms tighter around her and pulled her closer on his chest. 

“Sergio, we’re both tired.” Raquel stretched her neck up to give him a soft kiss. “Read me to sleep?”

Sergio pressed his lips to her forehead. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I’m glad you’re letting me read to you again.”

The gravity of work, parenting, and their previous fight had been pulling them out of the usual things they’d always do together. This was one of them. Somehow, hearing Sergio’s voice until she could fall asleep was the kind of peace she would always find herself running into, and her legs would never go weak seeking it. She was happy he was just within her reach. In fact, she’d need not have to reach for him at all, because he was making sure the space between them was non-existent and that he would always be the subsequent soul of her skin. 

He pulled a copy of _Jane Eyre_ from the headboard shelf, flipped through the pages, then began reading the part where he left off from the last time he had read to her. He cleared his throat.

_“I sometimes have a queer feeling with regard to you–especially when you are near me, as now: it is as if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly and inextricably knotted to a similar string situated in the corresponding quarter of your little frame.”_

Sergio’s voice was delicate; almost brittle from the mist that formed in his eyes. He meant those words as much as he would if they were his, and Raquel sensed it as she was right at the spot where his heart was rapidly beating. It was really fast, contrary to what one would refer to as a lullaby. But how it thumped against her skin soothed her to a hazy and dreamy slumber that only he could afford her. She closed her eyes and let his fingers brush her hair. 

_“And if that boisterous Channel and two hundred miles or so of land come broad between us, I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly…”_

Sergio trailed off, drawn by the affection that the book had been making him feel, dwelling on the fact that Raquel was there to hear them. Even if they were not written by him, they felt like his to bear.

He noticed a droplet of warmth fleeing from her closed eyes to her cheek, then he closed the book and wiped it away. She seemed to be feeling as much affection in her sleep as he did, but she just kept still in his arms. His eyes roamed from the top of her head to the rest of her bare figure covered by the sheets. As much as Sergio wanted to peacefully sleep on his own as his shoulder started numbing, he didn’t want to let go of the piece of art in the intricate shape of his wife as the last few words he had read started playing out in his head. 

_I am afraid that cord of communion will be snapt; and then I’ve a nervous notion I should take to bleeding inwardly._

It was heartfelt, but he doubted this would happen to them. To keep any sort of unnecessary apprehension from filling his gut, he watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest and followed the pace of her breathing, letting himself doze off to the sound of her breaths. 

...

  
  


_“Good morning. I brought us breakfast.” Raquel beamed from the door of Sergio’s room. His tired eyes looked up from his computer to see her leaning towards the door frame in her track pants and a grey turtleneck from the set of the ones he had given her for her birthday. Upon seeing her outfit, he realized she was about to leave for their shooting in L.A. He smiled at the sight of her and lifted a hand to adjust his specs._

_“I figured you would need a cup of coffee from last night’s hustle,” Raquel said, making her way to his desk. She didn’t even flinch at the paperwork piled up at the level of his head, since this was just one of his normal weekends. She topped the pile with a medium-sized paper bag. “Before you go through these papers, make sure to eat. There's a bagel inside.”_

_Sergio grabbed the bag and opened it, peered through its contents, and flashed her a grateful smile. There she was, dropping by just to check up on him despite her week’s frantic activities. He placed the food back on the pile and walked up to envelop her in his arms. He inhaled her usual soft scent as he rubbed her back. It was just the comfort he needed in his seasonal distraught of having to spend most of his time in the office._

_“How’s your manuscript?” Raquel asked, her voice muffled against the bulk of his chest._

_Sergio shrugged. “I have no idea anymore. It feels like I’m writing an endless sequence.”_

_She pulled away and gently cupped his cheek. “Did you get enough sleep last night?”_

_He sighed. To the best of Sergio’s hazy recollection, he did have a few hours of rest after leaving her voicemail full in the middle of the night while she was sleeping. He worked non-stop in the office and constantly whined on the phone under the influence of too much vodka that he could barely drive himself home. Had Andres didn’t decide on calling to invite him for a drink, he would have been left alone in his misery._

_He cleared his throat. “I think so.”_

_Raquel looked at him warily, pursing her lips. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get some sleep before you bury yourself with work?”_

_“I’m fine,” he said. “Besides, I’m quite in a rush.”_

_She blankly stared at him, crossing her arms on her chest. “Sergio...”_

_He smiled and kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry about me.”_

_Raquel nodded. “Okay. At least eat something then. I’ll join you.”_

_“Don’t you have a flight today?”_

_“Yeah, but it got canceled by the producer just an hour ago. Technical stuff. I asked Monica to fill in for me in the meantime.”_

_Sergio frowned. “You never skip work.”_

_“Not if my excuse doesn’t have anything to do with spending more time with you.”_

_He blushed and looked down to bite his lip to stop himself from grinning._

_Sensing his sheepishness from her remark, Raquel playfully tilted her head close to Sergio’s and leered into his eyes, their noses touching, their lips brushing against each other. Suddenly, his stomach subdued a growl, making them stop and chortle in each other’s arms. Her arms snaked through his nape, “Kitchen?”_

_“Kitchen,” he affirmed, taking the food and leading her to the kitchen of his cramped apartment._

_They sat across each other at the sturdy foldable dining table, quietly enjoying their breakfast bagels and black coffee and exchanging loving glances at each other._

_Sipping from his coffee, Sergio stirred another dosage of comfort in her company, considering he had been a little awkward since they got together last week with their newly-found fondness. Frankly, it wasn’t easy to deal with such profound feelings for the first time, but he had Raquel as she promised him that they’re taking a slow pace for now. With that, he had enough time to explore their relationship with ease._

_“You know what,” said Raquel, breaking the snug silence, “I can’t believe you said those words last night.”_

_He frowned. “What?”_

_“That one particular voicemail out of the fifteen ones you sent while you were drunk,” she clarified, taking a bite of her bagel._

_“What did I say?” Sergio asked as he dug into the events of last night. He could only recall himself blowing up her phone with his tirades of how he was overloaded with his job and nothing else._

_“You said you can’t wait to settle with me soon,” Raquel answered, chewing her lower lip in a daze._

_Sergio’s eyes widened in astonishment. A part of him knew he had meant that. He didn’t throw a whole speech about the unnecessity of having to follow the rules of his boss just because he was unenthusiastically doing his job for the first time in years. Maybe it was the too standardized artistry that was imposed on the shows the company was producing, but it also was the whole new world of spontaneity Raquel had shown him and how he craved every single thread of it._

_She had led him across every single border that held him back, and it filled the emptiness that drained his heart. Sergio was happy with her. He didn’t want that happiness to end. He could even imagine how he would be without her; hassled in seclusion and loneliness. They both knew from the start that being best of friends wasn’t enough, that their relationship throbbed a more earnest consolation, and he was glad they were able to finally sort it out after months of pining for each other._

_Raquel placed her bagel on the plate and searched his eyes. “Sergio, can I ask you something?”_

_Sergio deeply inhaled, an evolving sensation of spasms invading his stomach. He nodded hesitantly. “Yeah.”_

_She slid her hand across the table and placed it over his. She gently asked, “Did you mean it?”_

_He looked down on their hands now warmly entwined. “Raquel, I know we haven’t really talked about what’s ahead of us, but I’ve been dreaming of spending the rest of my life with you. I know maybe I’m too enraptured by the idea. It’s too soon but I can’t help it. We’ve been friends for over a year and that’s enough time for me to figure how deeply you matter. I might have been drunk, but yes, I...meant it.”_

_She closed a palm over her mouth, her eyes intently sparkling at his words. Oh, how she loved him and his earnestness. “To be honest, I was a little scared to commit because I don’t want to get hurt. But it’s you. I trust you, Sergio. We don’t know what the future holds but just being with you is enough to fill my present.”_

_Sergio smiled in delight. “I’m...I’m glad I get to be with you.”_

_“I am, too.”_

_“And I’m sorry I’ve been working all the time. I still don’t know how to manage how I get to be meet you at least once-”_

_She cut him off. “Sergio, I don’t mind you working your ass off as long as you make time for yourself, too. We’re taking this slow, right? It’s okay to just focus on our personal goals for now and being there for each other even if we would be physically apart in our endeavors. It’s fine if we don’t see each other every day. I mean, that’s normal and healthy.”_

_Sergio squeezed her hand, an assurance transpiring from him to her by the warmth of his touch. “Thank you so much.”_

_Raquel lifted her elbows on the table and clasped his hand between hers. She pressed her lips on his knuckles. “Sergio, we’re together now. If you need someone by your side, I’m here.”_

_She looked through him, through the soul she had been figuring out how to piece together for quite some time - there he was now, willing to surrender every part of him to her. She was willing to do the same. “I’ll always be here.”_

_…_   
  


“Try to relax today, okay?” Raquel advised him, looking over her shoulder as Sergio zipped up her dress from the back. 

He wasn’t sure if he could do that when the success of his show mostly depended on their plot strategy _and_ the actors, not when one of those personalities messed up in the middle of the story conference. _The Runaway Debutante_ paved the way to achieving his dreams. It was a run back from the interception of his first show’s cancellation. Now that they were back to work, Sergio couldn’t stop himself from overthinking how it would turn out for his team. 

They would cast a replacement as affirmed by him, but Eric McAfee was a prominent figure on the team. They would eventually lose millions from their audience. On another note, he tried to assure himself that it would be worth replacing someone like Eric, that they could cast a much more famous actor and those millions would be nothing. And who would support Eric after the incident, anyway? He wanted to shut those thoughts down since he refused to go down that spiral.

Sergio took a deep breath and watched Raquel turn around to face him, pulling her hair from the side of her neck. “I’ll try,” he assured her. 

She clicked her tongue, her hands on her hips. “Honey, don’t stress yourself too much.” 

“I won’t,” Sergio whined, his outstretched palms up in the air from being overwhelmed. 

Taken aback by what he conveyed, Raquel winced. He had been facing such kinds of episodes right before filming a season of his show. The constant worrier in him would always find something to be nervous about, and she figured it wasn’t his fault since he grew up being pressured to attain every single goal in his life. 

“Just tell me if you need help figuring these emotions out. I might know someone.”

“I don’t need to be therapized for this, Raquel,” Sergio insisted, a rigid composure taking over him as he hastily did his tie.

With a sigh, Raquel rushed in front of him, grabbing his hands and replacing hers over the disheveled knot. He looked down on his feet, trying to avoid her gaze. She crossed the wide end underneath the narrow one to Sergio’s left, but then went on with the process as she fixed the lapel of his suit. Her hands slid to his chest, and he let them rest on it, his composure relaxing towards her affection. 

She looked into his eyes, lifting her fingers to the tip of his chin. “I was just saying you can reach out if you need help, but it would have to be someone who’s capable of piecing this together. I can’t figure this out for you, you know that. But I’m here. I’m always here.”

Sergio reflected upon her words. As much as he tried to forget about his father’s words of what he had thought as something from encouragement, he had stamped it into his head. But Raquel was here. Maybe he would stick to her assurance and it would be enough. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t listen to her, but sometimes his mind would mute out any assurance of some sort. Maybe he wouldn’t need to talk to someone about it. Just maybe. 

“What would I do without you?” he said, finally glancing back at her. 

“You would have to be strong without me,” she whispered, ominous air surrounding the trace of her words. 

Sergio’s shoulders stiffed, his heart rapidly thumping in his chest. “What are you implying?”

Raquel burst out wheezing, and he struggled to relax until she took his hand. “Kidding, honey. I was messing with you.”

He made a face with a rigid mixture of shock and relief. “Hey!” he interjected once the moment had sunk in his gut. 

She cupped his face as he chuckled his way out of apprehension. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” 

Sergio pulled her tightly into his chest, relieved that he would never have to let go of her. “I love you,” he mumbled to her ear. 

…

Sergio could only focus on the clacking of Raquel’s heels on the pavement as she chased Paula to the front gate of the prep. He spotted kids tagging and screaming at each other by the school garden on the side of the building which added another load of obscured perception by his auditory understanding. He slid his hands on the pocket of his coat and followed his wife and daughter through the gates. 

“Darling, are you sure your coloring kit is with you?” Raquel asked, stopping at the lobby entrance where other parents watched their children run to their classrooms. 

Paula nodded and hauled a pouch from her backpack. “I didn’t forget my cookies, too.”

Her mother smiled and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Alright, that’s great. Do well at school and enjoy, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Paula replied, peering behind her mom where Sergio was sternly staring at his feet. “Is Daddy sick again?”

Raquel turned to him, her gaze growing with concern. “Sergio, how are you doing?”

His head jolted up and he looked around as if he had no idea where he was, almost seeming hesitant to say a word. “Hey. Uh, I’m fine.” He got up on one knee to open his arms to his daughter for an embrace. “Enjoy your day. Don’t forget to drink your water.”

Sergio and Raquel let her go and gazed at her exultantly skipping to her classroom. She hooked her wrist to her arm then they started to amble out of the building, peering at the kids in the yard. Her head swiveled at him, gazing at his troubled eyes and trembling chin. “You don’t have to go to work today.” 

“I need to,” Sergio said firmly, determination crawling back in his bones. “Besides, I have to attend to further concerns about my team. We’re filming soon.” 

“I hope it’ll go well.”

“And I need to do well.”

“You’re doing well,” she assured him. 

“Am I?” he doubted. “Raquel, my workload is getting heavier each day and I don’t think I can manage what I once thought as what keeps my life going.”

Raquel fixed her eyes at him, warily flinching at every twitch in his expression. She felt sorry for him and wanted to carry every burden that he had been carrying. If only there was something she could do to keep him at his peace, she could’ve done it even before it got loaded on his shoulders. The only thing she could think of at this point was to leave him to his work until she figured it out.

She took his car keys from his pocket and sharply inhaled, readying herself to face yet another day of stress. “Sergio, let’s get going. You’re gonna be late for your meeting.”


	9. Retreat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while, folks. how is everyone doing? i hope you guys are having a great day. mine was wack because of school stuff and anxiety and a little bit of procrastination (which I am deeply guilty of). stay hydrated!

_  
_ _“I was just innocently peering over her shoulder out of curiosity about how her magical hands work while baking and then she turned to me…” Sergio drunkenly recalled as he poured himself another glass of beer, “...with those eyes. She had something in them, a yearning so deep and splendid like she wanted to kiss me?”_

_Raquel slammed the table with her palm and giggled, grabbing her glass and clinking it with Andres’ who almost sprawled himself on the floor from laughing too hard. “He's adorable when he’s drunk.”_

_The older man tried to collect himself and cleared his throat with a hint of admiration in his eyes for the new couple he was sitting across in the garden of his penthouse. “Did you actually want something to happen?”_

_She rolled her eyes and nodded. “Since the day we almost killed each other for the camera in the antique shop, I did.”_

_Sergio drained his glass, digging his unusual certitude from her words. “Well, I didn’t intentionally charm you into kissing me. I guess it came naturally.”_

_She pinched his cheek as she stated the most obvious thing one could infer from both of them: “Apparently, it did.”_

_“Well, I can still feel the tension between you two from the day you first met. It’s so powerful it could travel through the past months up to this moment,” said Andres. “Anyway, I’ve been meaning to ask you this since last year. How did the camera even end up on his hands when you’re this competitive?”_

_Raquel almost choked on her drink. “By default. My phone rang and I had to leave immediately to the office. Turns out my lunch break was cut short.”_

_“Turns out I am right on the same side of her office building.”_

_“I dreamed of experiencing that kind of meet-cute when I was fourteen.”_

_“And then she befriended me after finding out we’re working in the same company. We started hanging out. And then I invited her over to read my new collection. She saw the camera and asked me to at least take a photo of her to compensate for her loss.”_

_“We needed something to restart our friendship with!”_

_Andres chuckled. “That was very thoughtful of you.”_

_“It was cute though,” Raquel said, wrinkling her nose._

_“Can you imagine? It was my camera and the face it first captured was hers. Here, I still keep it in my wallet,” Sergio butted in, holding out a film showing a “candid” shot of Raquel she had asked him to take the moment they were “officially” friends._

_Surprised, she snatched it from him and stared at the younger version of herself, who was then clueless of her attraction for the friend she had found in him and was all about work and career and self-fulfillment._

_“I zoomed it to your face because that was when I started to realize how beautiful you are.”_

_“But you said it slipped into one of your four hundred books that we were too lazy to flip through!”_

_He shook his head and slipped the film back into his wallet. “You were too lazy to check everything. I wasn’t. It took me weeks to do so, but it was worth it.”_

_“You’re unbelievable,” she mumbled, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling._

_“I’m still infuriated at how you carelessly grabbed my camera from my shelf though,” he mumbled._

_She frowned. “In my defense, I found it sitting uselessly the moment I stepped into your apartment.”_

_“In my defense, it’s too precious and expensive to lay a finger on.”_

_Andres chuckled after finding the right moment to interrupt. “Before you guys try to kill each other again, can we please go back to the night when you finally got together?”_

_To escape her playful wrath, Sergio hastily opened his mouth before she did and picked up where he had left off. “We kissed.”_

_“He kissed me first. I kissed him back,” Raquel broke down. “That’s pretty much what happened.”_

_“Yeah. It was the most special night of my life,” he said, taking an ample sip from his glass. “It was life itself.”_

_Her gaze lit up, taking in how much that night meant a lot more to him than she had imagined. “Really?”_

_“As if you don’t know that already,” he whispered, making her blush on her seat._

_Their friend, who felt like he was tucked away in a corner and got rotten out of Sergio and Raquel’s line of discussion, held out a palm. “So you guys just kissed and decided to get together? No heart-to-heart talk whatsoever?”_

_As if they both had a string of synchronization tied to their bodies, their heads swiveled to each other then to the curious Andres._

_“Yes we did,” Raquel answered, gazing at the billions of stars reflected in her boyfriend’s eyes. “He had articulated his feelings even better than I expected. Believe me, Andres. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve heard in my life and I wish I could go back and relive that moment,” she added, tears almost spilling to her cheeks as she played his words in her head once again._

_“What did he say to you?" Andres asked._

_“That is something we’re keeping to ourselves.”_

_Their friend scoffed, his hands shooting up in the air. “Come on!”_

_Right before he could beg some more, Raquel deliberately held a show of refusal for a little while, then sighed and gave in. “Nothing. He just...made me feel things I’ve never felt before,” she glanced up at him with a huge grin she had been holding back._

_Finally, she smiled the playfulness away from the air, leaving a generous space for earnestness to hover above them. They fell silent, sincerity creeping into their intoxication._

_He tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled back sweetly. “I meant those words only for you.”_

_She slowly entwined their fingers, grinning down on her feet and lifting their hands to kiss his knuckles._

_But before anything could escalate, Andres let out a bitter and exaggerated gag, awkwardly standing up to clear out the table. “I have a, uh, spacious guest room inside. I was thinking you might be a bit too horny to drive through the night. I’m gonna have to review a case my boss had emailed me.”_

_Before he could rush to the door, he reached for Sergio’s head to kiss his hair with an impressive sneer on his face. “I’m proud of you. Take care of our dear Raquel,” he whispered in his ear._

_“I will,” Sergio promised, winking at her._

_“You’re really cute when you drink,” she mused, starting to creep on his lap to pepper kisses on his neck as soon as Andres was out of sight._

_..._

_They were sprawled on the sheets in only the shirts Sergio had stacked in Andres’ apartment when he would stay overnight, barely getting the dose of slumber they wanted for themselves. A few minutes after midnight and they could still hear the city being alive right out of the windows._

_“You still can’t sleep?” he asked her, fingers brushing through her hair; thinking it would make her drowsy in the least._

_Raquel answered with a low hum against the pillow._

_“What do you want me to do?”_

_“Keep on doing that, please,” she quietly begged, her voice raspy against her dried-up throat._

_“Okay. Anything else?”_

_“And please talk.”_

_“But it’ll be too noisy for you.”_

_“Wouldn’t mind the noise if it’s your voice.”_

_“But-”_

_“You have a million stories in your head, Sergio. I want to listen to them,” she said, her voice deeper and more amplified from trying to manifest her earnestness._

_“Which one?”_

_She turned around to face him, marveling through the cozy and adorable feel of his groggy composure. “What about you tell me about your dreams? You said you’ve never really thought about it. With your meticulosity, I don’t believe you.”_

_Sergio pursed his lips, knowing he couldn’t get away with it this time. The truth was: he thought it would be embarrassing coming from someone like him, who dreamed of living alone in the crowded city - now wishing he could settle with his first love when they’re ready and financially stable enough to start their own life. He never thought he would come to this point, especially when they were just in the first stage of their relationship. There was nothing holding him back though; it was she who he wanted to commit to for the rest of his life._

_He gently let out every word, careful not to abruptly spill every drop of his hot tea. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”_

_Raquel nodded, a warm smile illuminating her face in the dark. “I want to share every single bit of your dreams with you.”_

_He sighed happily, pulling her closer to him. “Then, will you be glad to be a part of it?”_

_She didn’t say anything, but their position made it easier for her to crane her neck to brush her lips against his in the shadows. There, he had gotten his answer._

_“You’re a huge part of mine, too. We’re even,” she said, cupping his face._

_“I’m glad.” He kissed her forehead. “I’m so glad.”_

_“I am, too. So tell me about the rest,” she said, running a finger along the lines of his face._

_“It’s you.”_

_She released a sigh of contentment even after hearing it for the second time. “Me. Surely, there’s something else.”_

_“Fine.” He took a heavy sigh, pursing his lips as he was about to reveal a deeper understanding of himself to her. “I want to write a series one day. It will go big on worldwide television. You already know that. I just hope I’ll be able to make it come true.”_

_“It will, my love. You’ll make it happen.”_

_“And remember that huge apartment I’ve checked on the Upper East Side? I keep on telling myself I’ll be able to afford that.”_

_“In a few years’ time.”_

_“In a few years’ time,” he echoed quietly._

_“That’s possible,” she pondered. “And don’t you dare think I won’t move in with you.”_

_“It’s going to be our haven.”_

_“That seems pleasant enough.”_

_“Pleasant enough to what?” he asked._

_“To spend the rest of my life with you in our little haven.”_

_“Mind you, it’s a huge apartment.”_

_She giggled, having the urge to ignore his stubbornness, but she rather found it amusing. “Oh, fine.”_

_“Wait, I thought you wanted to travel the world? You’re telling me you want to stay here in New York living a boring life with me and ditching the dream you’ve secretly had ever since?”_

_“Sergio, what’s an adventure compared to that so-called boring New York life with you?”_

_He stared at her, a small beam slowly forming in the shape of his lips, and all his courage had been peacefully collected in his heart. “You know what else consists of my dream?”_

_Raquel blinked. “What?”_

_“It’s you.”_

_“Oh, I didn’t know that,” she joked, and Sergio suppressed a snicker. “Tell me more.”_

_He slightly shifted, keeping his duty of brushing his fingers through her hair. “It’s you and the silly million dances we will have on your living room, the weekend morning walks in the park with one of Alicia’s dogs, the little kisses we will get to share between chores, the books I’ll read to you before you sleep, the cakes you will teach me how to bake, and the delight of simply waking up next to you every day.”_

_“Oh Sergio, I can’t wait to stomp my feet on the floor of that expensive apartment when we fight,” she said, pressing her face to his chest, beads of tears smearing his shirt. “God, I love you.”_

_“I love you, too,” he whispered. “Aren’t you sleepy yet?”_

_She shook her head. “Nope. Not with that prospect of yours makes me feel more alive and awake than I ever could.”_

_“Maybe I should stop being too cheesy, then.”_

_They laughed together, teary-eyed and hungover as they let a few peaceful moments pass before they could speak again._

_“Sergio.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Maybe sooner, when we get to be permanent in our jobs, we can move out of our cramped apartments and live that life.”_

_“You seem to be in a rush.”_

_“Life is short. Let’s start collecting our fortunes while we can. I can’t wait that long.”_

_He pressed one last kiss on her forehead and let his fingers cool her head to the first little wave of sleep. “I can’t wait that long, either,” he said, but she was already spiraling into the dreams of her own._

_..._

_He watched the heel of her palm on the leather-bound steering wheel._

There was a heavy load of _something_ that swirled around his head; a spirograph of a black matter in a faraway galaxy, or a pool of water that filled his lungs, just like the raindrops that raced down the car window then to the ground. 

_He tried to count the strands of her hair sticking to the side of her face._

Just a few days ago, he was the one manning the wheels to see a good friend of theirs live her dream; a life full of splatters of paint and sketches and unicorns and nice bottles of wine. They would steal concupiscent glances at each other as the road stretched ahead—they still did, but it was rather a ceasefire of wary looks with occasional ensuring smiles this time, all because he was not hanging on to what he thought was his lifeline. Now it had been reduced into an unfamiliar checklist of what had to be done instead of what he wanted to do. 

_He stared at the veins of her hands growing more and more visible every hour she would break a sweat or stay longer at work through the years, the very hands that carefully held their nimble little Paula the first time she cried._

How dreary it was to take a ride back to his reality of creative meetings and casting calls and brainstorming over black coffee while two of his directors would bicker while hustling. 

Maybe he liked his job, after all. _Liked._ Now, he loved it. He loved it too much that…

_What exactly happens when you love something too much?_

It wouldn’t be as bad as loving _someone_ too much, right? Perhaps, it does. 

When there’s a rope suspended from a skyscraper and you cling onto it for your dear life with your bare hands, it will start to scar, then will eventually force you down the earth - it’s either you let your skull or spine take the first hit, maybe even both. You’re lucky if you have someone waiting to catch you from down there, but there’s a chance you will fall directly on that person and it will hurt both of you. 

_And it will hurt both of you._

_Crazy._ _Disturbing._ _Maybe you should stop writing too many death-defying scenes, Sergio,_ he told himself. 

It was true. It was getting out of hand, his head of thoughts. When you project yourself onto your fictional character who risks his reverence he had invested in his rich parents to save the communities they had overexploited and hide in every corner of the world, one would think you had your shit together enough to handle creating such extreme content. 

Truth be told, he didn’t. 

_To have something for his wandering pair of eyes to land on, he looked at hers as they squinted through the sunlight and focused on the road of wet puddles and a series of mirages ahead._

He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He only knew he wanted to go back home and spend more time with Raquel and Paula. None of them wanted to burst the bubble of contentment, to be completely honest. Why would you break away if you had such a family that was almost so perfect that it could meet its textbook definition? Not even him, who used to be delightful with the balance between family and work. Now, he wanted the scale to only contain _home_. What made him so perplexed about his job, he didn’t know. 

It was absurd that someone like him _wouldn’t know_ when in fact, his whole world used to revolve around his wisdom until he learned how to adapt to Raquel’s spontaneity. Still, his rationality remained. 

_Just as he would do to be found when he feels lost, he would only look for her._

Maybe this was just the spontaneous chickening out he would do before the release of every season of his show, nothing more serious. But this time, he felt different. He felt like an unconscious body floating on an empty void, cold and numb.

He had already reached his goal of making it known worldwide, having been to lots of press conferences, trending premieres, and creating one hell of a good show. All the sleepless nights had paid off. All the arguments he had with his colleagues had threaded the ropes they had climbed to the top. All the failure and rejections he had accepted…

Maybe he was just tired. 

Indeed, he was exhausted, and as hard as it was to admit, he was at the wit’s end of his passion. He had no idea what to do next. Would he take a hiatus from his big break as a writer or keep the projects coming until he’d give up? 

That was something he needed to figure out. 

_He looked through her, the burning fire of her presence melting the ice around his limbs_...so he could unfasten his seatbelt and get out of the car when he realized they were already at the parking lot. 

Sergio heaved a deep sigh and waited for Raquel to finish applying light makeup on her tired face, the silence that they were trying to keep casual becoming even more defiant. 

And Raquel—she believed in him. In a span of eleven years, she had been asking him to tell her about the stories in his head, urging him to proposals that had somehow succeeded, covering his press conferences, staying up late with him when he writes, hooking her hand on his arm in premieres, cooking him his favorite risotto in his times of self-doubt, and never failing to show that she loved him in her own ways. 

She had done so much, so much for _him_ that sometimes he would slightly be afraid it might be too much for _her_.

 _God,_ he prayed to the heavens to turn the possibility away from his fate.

When he heard her lips pop, his head swiveled to her, a finger upon the bridge of his nose to adjust the placement of his specs. 

“Ready to go?” she asked, trying to keep the atmosphere light for him even if he could see she was being a little impatient to get to her office with how her fingers closed around his knee, urging him to carry on so she could do the same. Oh, to be a busy associate of the national news. It could never be easy for anyone.

She was leaving him no choice, but there was a part of him that wanted to vent out or he would eventually combust in static silence. Maybe later, when she would be done with her obligations at work. It wouldn’t be wise to interrupt when she was in the middle of a steadfast operation. She wouldn’t have time for this.

And yet, she opened her mouth to say: “Something’s bothering you.”

He was taken back as he had just heard ominous music swell out of her mouth as if those three words of insistence intimidated his guts from spilling out. It felt like marching into the war sooner than expected then realizing you have no defenses a minute late. 

But this wasn’t a war, nor a battle. This was his wife trying to make sense of his situation, or at least that was what he thought she was doing. She was just trying to help, so why would he be afraid? 

_Talk._

Her eyes traced the fault lines of the quivering of his nerves beneath the crust of his skin. Gently, she enclosed her hand over his to stop it from shaking, an anxious look on her face. “Sergio.”

_Talk._

He cleared his throat, trying his best not to meet her eyes. “Raquel.”

“Whatever’s going on your mind right now, just know you’ll do great,” she said encouragingly.

“I…”

 _Doubt that,_ he wanted to continue. But doubt would just echo down from his words to his decisions, hence heaving down his heart even deeper into his stomach so he left it as it is in the hopes of making himself feel better. Besides, Raquel was there. She was always there to remind him that he made it this far and there shouldn’t be a space for doubt—the only thing that was holding him back. 

“You’re nervous.” 

He nodded down. 

Reluctantly, she reached for his hand and gave him a small reassuring smile despite being clueless about what exactly was on his mind. “I know a person who’s just like you. He has everything in his life, reached greater heights for himself while keeping his career stable and successful as a showrunner who has to live up to what millions of people expect him to produce. And he’s best at what he does. All that while raising a wonderful daughter and being the best husband in the world.”

Raquel was happy she made him smile at least and that she could see there was a little trickle of hope flickering in his eyes. It didn’t last long, but she knew it would all go well as long as he still had it in him, and she could feel it as he squeezed her hand in gratitude. 

Sergio couldn’t find the right words to say because every shrinking piece of his sanity bloated back into shape. He was okay again, for now. He could feel the dynamics of his emotions within the threshold of his control as his wife was the current that kept his river flowing. She always was, and that shrouded a deep yearning around his body like a shockwave to remind him that _oh, she’s still here, you're going to be fine._

“Now, get out of here. Give me a call if you’re not feeling well so I can take you home.”

“But you’re busy,” he could only say, shaking his head.

She deliberately shrugged it off and left a peck on his cheek. “I don’t mind at all.”

…

“I believe there is also a need to emphasize the lack of inclusivity and diversity in your cast. Might as well think twice and consider that before making the casting call exclusive. I understand our office is getting overwhelmed with agencies pitching their clients for this particular role but please, this is important for the audience,” the casting director suggested in front of more than a dozen people from Sergio’s team.

“Come on, Nadiene,” the director scoffed. “That’s exactly the point. How many companies are currently lining up on our doorway and kissing our asses just to get a contract? Fifteen? With at least two actors to pitch in? That would be enough for us.”

Everyone’s heads turned to the two directors who were coldly sneering at each other, wondering what must have occurred between them that they weren’t aware of. 

Nadiene sighed, gritting her teeth then forcing her pen onto the table. “We’re talking about diversity here, _Katricia_ ,” she grunted. 

“I get it, but why look for Eric’s replacement somewhere else when we literally have potential candidates ready to widen their exposure?” Katricia whined from her seat, trying to grab Sergio’s attention from his little origami figurines at the far end of the conference table. 

Nadiene glanced at their boss then at her colleague, slipping a fist in the folds of her coat. “No, Kat. You don’t get it. Can’t we at least make some efforts to handle a worldwide search or are your principles too rigid for that?”

“We have dignified clients waiting for us right under our feet. Their interns never left the ground floor since this morning. Can’t you trust their artists?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust them, it’s that _you_ don’t trust me when this is _my_ job.”

“Then who let Eric in the show? Wasn’t that you?” Katricia challenged.

“Oh, please. Let’s not go there, Kat.”

“Oh, yes, we are definitely going there, Nad.”

“Stop being childish, both of you,” a voice from the other side of the room called out, then the directors hesitantly relaxed back on their seats, realizing the trouble they were getting themselves into. “If you guys have a little discord outside our range of discussion, settle them privately, please. You’re making this harder for everyone.”

Finally, the worn-out Sergio Marquina put down his unfinished bird origami on the table, digressing himself out of his nonchalance as if the feud wasn’t internally making his head burst. “Thank you, Dominique,” he regarded the other director to his opposite. 

“Can you feel the tension between Nadiene and Katricia?” an assistant leaned in to whisper.

“Not now, Loren,” the other one beside her muttered, playing with the smudged _Aya_ on her nametag.

The two assistants jolted erect after noticing the look Sergio had given them just a second ago. 

“I think everyone needs to have their heads cooled. And Katricia, I agree with you. I think it’s too impractical to open the calls worldwide for just a single role,” he decided, as reluctant as could be as his mind was clouded with a lot of spirals that held him back from his rationality. 

Nadiene bolted out of her seat. “A single role that could _at least_ make a difference with how people see our values, Sergio. Think about it.”

“No, don’t. You made the right choice,” Katricia insisted, and then it once again fueled another round of spits and glares that he couldn’t bear listening to so he just shut it off and went back to his origami. 

All he could think about was that Dominique was right. This was getting harder for everyone. Everything was getting harder especially for _him._ But he didn’t want to come out as selfish as he thought he was, since he wanted to skip through the conflicts so bad for all of this to be over.

_For him. His sanity. His availability to his desired domesticity._

_Not for Nadiene, who just wanted a good image for their production._

_Not for Katricia, who just wanted to be practical._

_Not for Dominique, who didn’t want to waste her time._

_Not for anyone in this room, because he was sure no one else wanted to escape their responsibilities more than he did._

With two of his directors in a feud that God knew what the hell it was about, some of his staff not taking their jobs seriously, _him_ being emotionally unsettled with the current situation of his team, Sergio had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to pull this through. He just felt it in his gut, without a basis that would seem enough for anyone to consider as reasonable. 

The feeling was creeping through him, making him shiver from its icy clutches, leaving him helpless and completely clueless of what to do next. There were a million thoughts racing in his head and making him dizzy from even blinking his eyes and breathing. There were too many of them that his mind seemed to go blank as if he lost the capability to think.

And then a static noise, gradually turning down his senses. 

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_Breathe._

_You’re doing well,_ Raquel’s voice echoed in his head. 

_No,_ he said to himself.

A slam on the table by his fist was what made everyone halt to a stop and hold their breaths, and he lifted himself to rigidly walk out of the room.

...   


Sergio woke up to the faint sound of a painfully familiar voice and the vague flicker of lights hovering from the ceiling of his office. Someone was gently stroking his cheek, and he was sure it was Raquel, whose lap his head was resting on. 

“I think he has to have some more rest,” he heard her say. “I’ll just stay here...Yeah, please tell Mr. Collins I can’t make it tonight...Look, I know it’s a busy day, and God, help me...Who’s gonna look after my husband?... Right...Thank you, Crystal...I’ll make it up to the team when I can.” 

She looked down on him, her fingers playing with his hair. “There you are,” she said. 

“What just happened?” he croaked out, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s half-past seven, Sergio. I bought dinner, but I found you like this. Tired?” 

“Very,” he answered, recollecting what happened just a few hours ago. The beginning of the meeting that bored the hell out of him, bickering Katricia and Nadiene, Dominique shutting them out, a couple of his assistants he had caught gossiping, and then his fist on against the table. So that’s why his hand was a little sore…

The last thing he wanted to happen was Raquel finding out about his outburst a while ago. She would be disappointed, would give him another lecture, drag him home, and they would make up. Couldn’t he skip to the part where they make up just in case she knew?

“Let’s take you home,” she said.

At least, she had no clue and that she skipped through the first two parts of what he expected. “Not yet. I’m still too dizzy for a ride.”

She kissed his forehead. “Let’s stay like this for a bit more, then.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, taking her hand. “Tell me about your day.”

Raquel sighed. “The usual. Had to rush a few paperwork and orient some interns-”

A soft _ping_ came off from her phone.

“Who is it?” he asked, butting in to check the screen of her phone. 

“It’s just Crystal asking if I can’t really make it tonight.”

“Oh,” he said, leaning on his elbow to get up. “You should go. You seem to be needed there.”

But she was already pulling him back on her lap. “Can’t I skip just one night of work to look after you?”

“Of course, you can! But-”

She pressed a finger against his lips. “No buts.”

“Fine,” he muttered, shifting on the couch to wrap an arm around her waist, then she leaned down to clutch the back of his head. 

They were quiet for a little moment, indulging themselves in the comfort of each other’s arms. Through the years, she was his only refuge, and he couldn’t thank her enough. If he knew a way to stay like this for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t let go. It was hard to, even if his limbs were starting to numb. 

“Look, I know you’ve been nervous about your show,” she began, eventually through with the silence that only the clock could break, “but you’ve come so far and I’m proud of you. Remember when you almost backed out of your premiere night?”

He bit his lip. Turns out he didn’t have to tell her. She had known him enough to sense what he’s going through, and he didn’t know if he should be nervous or thankful for that. “Yeah, I do.”

Raquel grabbed a hold of her phone, flipping it to slide off its case, and then an old film slipped out. It was the photo she took of him with their polaroid right before the preparation for the release of his first-ever series. 

Suddenly, he was a little perplexed to see it. All the excitement he had felt at that moment came rushing back and forth, like the waves of a sea washing through his feet. 

She flashed him a smile. “You were so nervous but so eager to see how your masterpiece would be received by the audience. And it was all worth it, Sergio.”

“It was.” _Was it?_

He forced his eyes shut as if he could force his tears back in his eyes. It was all so different back then. Everything was right on track; all going so well until things had sparked the light that was intended for just a candle wick into something as devastating as a wildfire. 

“This is what you’ve always wanted, right?” she asked him, trying to rekindle the fire inside him. 

_Maybe not anymore._ “Yes.”

“Then don’t give up,” Raquel whispered to him. 

_Maybe it’s time_. “I won’t. Never.”

“That’s good,” she pondered, pressing her lips to his as a sign of assurance that she was still here supporting and taking care of him.

She kissed him again. And again. And again, until he shifted to get a hold of her face to deepen the kiss, searching for the refuge he needed in her lips. 

They kept on kissing until he was on top of her, both their blazers being thrown on the floor. _God_ , this was it. He wanted to forget about everything just for a while and feel her with every tip of his senses. At least, the show wouldn’t be brought up while they-

“Who’s fetching Paula from her math tutorial?” he asked before unzipping her dress.

“Alicia,” she breathlessly answered, and he went back to his business, pressing her down with the weight of his body while trailing kisses from her neck to her chest. 

As she was about to tear his shirt, the door suddenly squeaked open, keeping them off balance on the couch so they fell onto the floor. An intern was awkwardly standing by the door frame, her face pale from what she was seeing. 

“Hi, Angel,” Raquel blurted out as Sergio was helping her up on her feet, quickly zipping up her dress. “I’m so sorry,” she said, straightening her clothes.

Both could barely keep their respective composures, especially right in front of one of the interns she had oriented in the morning. “What is it?” she asked, approaching the girl who still had a surprised look on her face. 

“Mr. Collins needs you there. Badly. I...gotta go, Ma’am,” said Angel before closing the door and skittering away to the lobby.

“You forgot to orient your interns on how to knock?” Sergio asked her, clearly trying to calm down from the humiliation. 

“Maybe you should have the lock fixed next time,” Raquel suggested in a sarcastic tone before kissing him one last time. “Kidding, honey. I better get going.”

She rushed out of the room, then he slumped himself back on the couch, a thread of disappointment creeping on his nerves.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey let me know what you think!! you can find me on twitter @witchmurillo for more content xoxo thank u for reading


	10. Unreasonable Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been so busy with all the overwhelming work on my way that i hadn't found the time to update but here i am. hang on, everyone! there are only 5 chapters left until we close the book and I'm getting too emotional because this fic will always be where my comfort will seep through.
> 
> also, i hope everyone is going well today and I'm looking forward to seeing your reactions on this very special chapter. enjoy! i love you all with all my heart.

It took one timid glance from Angel, the intern, for Raquel to realize the gravity of the humiliation she had just inflicted as she moved along the well-lit busy hallways of Sergio’s office wing. 

_That_ was an immaculate drawback of her professionalism.

“So much for taking respectful authority seriously,” she muttered to herself while keeping a straight face. She still meant business, without a doubt. 

It’s just that her husband needed comfort in her arms. The last thing she wanted to do was to leave him disregarded because she was worried he would be too burned out to function. 

God knows how much Sergio despised having to skip work just because he’s tired and sick. 

God also knows that she was mindful enough to despise it for him, even after excusing herself for a few hours. She didn’t mind it, though, as long as it was to be with him. 

At least, she was responsible enough to orient her subordinates to take over over the job just for once. Truth be told, she was tired and conscious of all the time she had spent in the news for the past few years, even with the salary that was hard to turn down and the mere consistency of employment. 

And so Raquel needed a break as well. 

She realized it was hard to admit the fact that she and Sergio were at the wit’s end with their current jobs; she was just luckier to move back to where she had started in the first place. _Six more months and I’ll be back in my comfort zone_. That, she couldn’t wait to claim. 

Right now, there were still tons of workload left unflipped on her desk. She could live with that, as long as they weren’t too heavy that she’d leave Sergio and Paula beyond her care. 

An aggressive clacking of heels on the floor shook her away from her thoughts to make way for a familiar woman in a lace dress with her face caked with expensive make-up clutching a laptop and a thick ream of papers to her chest. She seemed to be heading down the end of the hall, where her husband’s office was tucked. 

Raquel shook her head, halting to heave a sigh. Just as when she thought she was going to take him home as soon as possible that another load of work had decided to be piled up on his desk. For the love of God, when will he stop working?

“Ma’am?” Angel said, a little concerned that her boss was distracted.

She let out a chuckle of embarrassment, ran her fingers through her hair, and retreated from her state of trance. If it was his choice to continue working, then she wouldn’t have to meddle as long as he would promise not to come to the point of literal disintegration at his workplace. She reminded herself she had other matters to attend to. 

“Sorry about that,” Raquel regarded, then let her footsteps start to take her to wherever she needed to be. 

The intern simply gave a smile and tried to catch up with her quickening pace. “I guess we can be inflamed with a little passion sometimes,” the young lady said in barely a whisper, but audible enough for Raquel to hear. 

She stopped on her way again beside the marble-framed elevator, frowning in misleading scrutiny of the assistant’s words. It took her a second to realize what she was referring to until she remembered the moment of intimacy the girl had unwittingly ruined just minutes ago. 

Angel could only bite her lip and urge herself to run as fast as she could, but Raquel suddenly broke into a quiet snigger and struck her palms together. “I like you,” she decided, leaving the girl’s cheeks to burn in crimson. 

Thankful for how the intern took the intrusion that led them to this moment, Raquel strode inside the elevator with a dazed smile, feeling the remnants of Sergio’s touch on her skin as she ran her fingers through the length of her arm. 

She just needed a cold shower. 

…

“There you are! Mr. Collins is still out. Can you believe it?” Crystal called out from the entrance to the control room as she let out a sigh of relief while handing out photocopied sheets to the news anchors. “Actually, you don’t have to stay. I just need you to sign a few documents. It’s on your desk.”

Raquel mouthed her gratitude and rushed inside her office, almost knocking over Sergio’s picture on her desk that she had been keeping for ten years now; the only solace she could find in the confusing hurricane of papers and binders. She carefully read the content and pulled the drawer open in search of a pen.

She didn’t exactly know how to feel about this. The fact that she had to cast her husband aside just to sign papers for the request of additional equipment and deals and contracts... 

If only she could dodge all of her responsibilities just for once. 

Just for once. 

But she knew her husband wouldn’t be happy with how she was handling everything into her account. In the first place, _he_ had chosen this job for her. Therefore, _he_ would want her to be here when needed no matter how much she insists against it by forcefully discharging herself from further attachments from her work. 

As much as she loved being involved in things like this, there will always be a time to be exhausted. This wasn’t the best time for that, it seemed, and she would have a hard time finding it. 

With all her colleagues willingly pushing themselves to make everything work in this production, she realized she didn’t deserve a workspace such as where she was in at the moment. 

Just as she had said to Sergio once, it was all too predictable and rigid so she knew she made the right choice of begging for his permission.

As if she needed it in the first place. 

As if she wasn’t allowed to make a decision for her own good. 

She couldn’t deny how maddening it was to have to ask for his permission when she told him she wanted to switch sides, but he did allow her, eventually.

He loved her so much. There would be no reason to refuse what she wanted. 

As Raquel signed the last piece of paper in the folder, she picked up Sergio’s photograph from where it stood beside the computer. She had no idea how her inner suppositions had spun back to her little grudge on his initial decision to refuse her transfer. 

_It was definitely the stress,_ she told herself. It really was, since she was already feeling the dizziness creating a false sense of her running around the room in circles. 

She nimbly ran her fingers over Sergio’s smiling face on the photograph. It was taken when she accompanied him to Los Angeles to visit his father’s grave on his birthday. He was standing by his old car with their luggage in both of his hands, flashing a shy smile at his best friend of eight months as the sunlight washed over his face. 

A warmth of nostalgia filled her heart, somehow easing her mind off the stress. 

Back when the days when everything was easy to bear; before they were clashed with loans and debts for their wedding and for newborn Paula to have what she needed. That was before Sergio decided she should apply for a position at the news. 

Now, here they were, a little apprehensive with their jobs but fortunate enough to move forward. Raquel pursed her lips and put the frame back in its place, only to be hailed by the weary sight of paperwork she would have to deal with until the end of the week. 

Caressing the lines on her forehead, she slammed the papers on the table and walked out to get something from the mini-fridge across the control room. 

“Are you good?” Crystal asked when she was spotted sipping on her coffee in the waiting area. “Monique’s the one filling in for you. She’s just inside if you want to check up on how she’s doing.”

“Just a little light-headed,” Raquel answered as she grabbed the fridge handle to open it, then turned around to face where Crystal sat. “Pre-mixed rum or Sprite?”

The younger woman scoffed and gaped at her. “Leave them out of your list and pick the orange juice. Don’t make your headache worse, Raquel.”

But she just acted as if she took no notice of the resident editor’s advice and plucked out a canned espresso martini. 

Crystal thrust herself up from her seat and walked over to the fridge to grab the drink from Raquel, who was trying not to wince and let out a protest in the name of avoiding workplace scrutiny. 

With a look of concern, the Crystal bent down and switched the drink with a can of orange juice. She then handed it to her superior and watched her grip the tab’s ring with a sharp metallic cackle.

Raquel rolled her eyes and made a show of snatching the juice. “Happy?”

The editor nodded as she drained her cup of coffee. “Now, go home and get some rest.”

“I’ll just check up on Monique first,” she said, peeping her head in the control room where her subordinate was taking command of tonight’s production. A chorus of nods and greetings were lauded to her by everyone in the room, and it eased her to know how well they were coping up without her presence.

Monique walked over the dispersed columns of audio and video monitors towards the doorway, exultantly waving a hand at her superior. “Miss Murillo!”

“Hi, there. Did you strip off some of the stories as I told you guys? There have been major changes as to what we should prioritize,” Raquel said, placing a hand on her hip. 

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ve also been told we were supposed to waive a request for an interview with Mr. Marquina about the details of _The Runaway Debutante_ but Crystal called it off.”

“And since it’s canceled, you should’ve filled it in with what went down with Eric McAfee’s exclusive interview without the involvement of anyone from the show. Did you do that?”

“Done already, Ma’am.”

Relieved, she managed a pat on the trainee’s shoulder. “Good.”

The curious subordinate then brushed her hair with her fingers then slipped her hands in the pocket of her coat. “Why did it get canceled? Is it because of the controversy?”

“My husband’s interview, you mean?” Raquel frowned and examined Monique’s eyes that were probably anticipating something that was worth a tittle-tattle outside the control room. “Well, he’s busy. It’s not because he’s trying to avoid to spark anything that has to do with McAfee if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Monique gave her a small smile and nodded. “But I still wonder why he left the show.”

Raquel gave her a look of warning. “I’m afraid that’s not our concern until their production releases an official statement.”

The assistant director awkwardly pursed her lips and took a moment to redeem herself in front of her superior. “Sorry, Ma’am. Still, thank you for letting me take over. The load is overwhelming but I’m enjoying it so far.”

“As long as you relish your experience and keep up with your ethics, you’ll be good to go.” _Because I can’t anymore,_ she wanted to say but she stopped herself. It would be better to keep quiet about her transfer in the meantime as to not bring in some unpleasant fortune.

She observed her team’s performance for a moment before gesturing her subordinate to go back to work. “I’m going to head out now. Good luck, Monique. I’m sure you’ll handle this well.”

The assistant director thanked her then rushed to accommodate the vision mixer on the farthest side of the room. 

It was a little bittersweet for Raquel to see her future successor have such enthusiasm that she herself never had since she started working in the field. It must have been the driven and competitive side of her that assumed its sublimation over her honor to have a flourishing director under her care. 

But she let it be. She had to accept that this was not for her; that there were so many things waiting for her from the doorstep of her career. Crystal, for example, had stood by the door frame just to accompany her out. 

“Let me know if you need to send a reminder to the team,” she assured, then let their director finish her drink while waiting for an answer.

“Of course,” Raquel said as soon as she crushed her empty juice can then tossed it in the bin. “You’ve been a great help today. Thank you.”

She didn’t realize the kind of people she was working with until tonight—how thoughtful and supportive they were and that they’ve always tried to keep everything light and easy in order to counter the overwhelming and bleak approach of the stories they covered. 

A part of her wondered why she would ever have to leave this ambient atmosphere at all…

 _“You have a stable contract! What more can you ask for?”_ Sergio once asked her.

_To be out there and take risks._

Just like what she did when she moved to New York all by herself, indebted. And why did she do it? For her late father’s ambition.

Just like what she did when she agreed to move their wedding earlier than planned with barely even a thousand dollars to make it up to the ceremony she had once dreamed of. And why did she do it? For the love of her life, even if he didn’t deserve all of her menaces.

Just like what she did when she transferred to the news. And why did she do it? For her daughter; so she wouldn’t live her life under strained circumstances in the future. 

Raquel had worked for big productions that her dad had failed to be in. She’s also in love with one of the most successful showrunners at the moment, with a daughter who’s as clever as she and her husband combined, getting all the support they could give her. 

It seemed as if their fortress had been moored into solid ground, which was the perfect time for her to finally make a choice for herself.

When you’re a hustling wife and mother, it is natural to be prone to doubt. You can’t know for sure if love is even enough to secure your marriage, nor can you figure out if your child will turn out to be prodigious and do substantial things when they grow up. With all of that, there will always be inconsistencies in your work, and in the way you see yourself which depends on how you think you’re doing.

But Raquel needed not a perfect marriage and a perfect child. She needed to feel contentment with them, and one of the ways to seize such is to pull something off for herself so she could fulfill them better. 

She knew exactly where she wanted to be. Doubt could go someplace else.

…

The smell of the takeout chicken and mushroom risotto swiftly made its way into every corner of the room, but it wasn’t as warm as it was supposed to be, given that they have left it sitting atop his desk for almost thirty minutes.

Sergio had expected the food to be less of what Raquel could cook for him. It probably wouldn’t be as good as her recipe, but she had bought it for him while he slept in his misery. The gesture meant so much to him than she could ever imagine. At least, he knew she wasn’t tired of his mess yet.

Pushing the rice near the edge of the paper bowl, he lifted the fork and took the first generous bit of the risotto - the consistency wasn’t as good as Raquel’s, but the creaminess was enough. 

He grabbed his phone next to the keyboard of his computer and texted: _Well, aren’t you the sweetest?_

He placed the fork on a piece of tissue paper and waited for her reply, but realized it probably wasn’t coming as she was still at work. She probably had her phone on silent. 

It was crazy how a nuisance could rouse a longing for her already, especially after such a moment of utter humiliation. He was disappointed that he didn’t get to spend more time with her, but he also needed to understand that this wasn’t exactly the perfect place for making love - whether the lock of his office door was fixed or not.

With that, Sergio grabbed hold of the fork and spread its cooked grains from the center, trying to keep it hot as he enjoyed it and failing miserably as it was getting colder by each minute.

A knock on the door interrupted him from his indulgence and he jolted his head up to see if Raquel has come back from her business as the door swiveled open, but it was instead the person he had been trying to avoid since his unfortunate lashing out earlier. 

“Sergio,” Dominique said in a displeased manner as she rushed inside to lift off the reams of papers on his desk and place her laptop on the coffee table for her to sign in. 

He froze, confused. The reason why he steered clear of this woman was that he hated how she looked at him as if he was her only target of blatant criticism. He hated her dark eyes and silky dark hair like she was coming for his neck every time she spoke. Now, he was too afraid to ask her why she was here.

One of the times he was thankful for her was for keeping Nadiene and Katricia from brawling even further and the years of hard work she had exerted just to push his show through. 

He pulled out a sheet of tissue paper to wipe his mouth and sipped from his thermos, shoving aside his nerves as he cleared his throat. “Dom, what brings you here?”

She could only answer when she was done browsing her laptop. Standing across the desk where he uncomfortably sat, she stared at him and pointed at the stack of papers she had placed on his desk. “That’s the final sequence. Ready for distribution. I’ve edited everything you told me to. You can check that later.”

Sergio nodded, shifting tentatively on his seat. “Is that all?”

Dominique shook her head and bent down to bring the device to him, but seeing his desk completely occupied with food and documents, she hastily gestured him to come quickly. This woman really didn’t like wasting her time.

“You’ve got to see this.” Her voice was cold like she was prophesizing a bad omen. 

He lifted himself from his chair and frowned upon seeing a thread of tweets on the screen. 

She crossed her arms over her chest and smirked. “This thread explains why the show is overrated and the main point is the fact that it hasn’t included proper representation. It has gained thousands of interactions all around the world. It says here that our viewers are bothered by how we’re all going _political_ while disregarding the-”

Sergio held up a hand, asking her to stop as he went through the whole thread. “Yes, Dominique. I know how to read.”

“I guess you also know what to do,” she pitched in, searching for the urgency in his eyes.

But he only gave her a completely bothered look. “What should we do about this?”

The publicist rolled her eyes, a dissatisfied scowl on her face. “I can’t believe you.”

Those words shot right through his heart. 

Had he failed? Had he been unfit enough to step down from his position? There were so many questions racking his brain. 

He started surging back and forth the room, agitation creeping on his skin and making it itch. Then he started thinking about his reputation; if the big bosses of his company could ever be proud of his work; if the show itself could be a success - the same things spiraling all over again and making him run out of breath. 

“This is just constructive criticism, no need to worry too much,” Dominique reminded him, trying not to sound pissed off. “But you should’ve considered this earlier.”

“I haven’t thought about it,” he said, his voice sharp. “Give me some time to think.”

“You’ve had enough time to think. You need to approve it right now,” Dominique snapped, slapping her laptop close and making sense of what was going on with him.

“Approve what?” Sergio demanded, a shadow of startlement casting on his face. He was sweating now, with both of his fists quivering as he paced around. He thought about how the comfort of his work was now a horror, and the pressure suffocated him a lot more than he had expected. 

“Investing in a global search. Nadiene was right.”

“Let me consider the odds, please.”

“What’s the point? The public has spoken. I have assisted Nad in preparing the documents in request for-”

“Can you stop bossing everyone around just for once?” Sergio growled, halting on his feet in right front of her. “You did that without consulting me!”

Dominique clicked her tongue and hissed: “If you care so much about what people think, would you mind lowering your voice? Why are you so afraid of accepting that you’ve been drawing back every decision you make because of your pride?”

A guilt-ridden grimace took over his face as he stared at Dominique’s softening gaze. Somehow, this woman still managed to understand his constraint. 

“Listen to me,” she hissed, gritting her teeth. “I’ve been here since the beginning and we may have never gotten close but I can see that you’re struggling. Yet here I am expecting so much from your potential because I am counting on you and I can’t lose my job if I don’t handle this mess well.”

Looking as if he was at his most dejected, Sergio turned his back on her, but Dominique grabbed his shoulders and forced him to meet her eyes until he could feel her shallow breaths on his skin. “ _Everyone_ is counting on you and we will never be able to afford-”

The door whirled open and Raquel appeared on the threshold of his office, stupefied. “Oh,” she exhaled, staring at their proximity and taking in the fact that this was the same fiercely woman who was rushing to her husband’s office the very moment she walked out of it.

Sergio hastily pulled out Dominique’s tight grip on his shoulders and dashed to Raquel’s side. “Hey,” he quietly called out to his wife as he approached, but she only took a step back and gaped at the startled woman who was already grabbing her laptop to leave.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered to Raquel before skittering out to the hallways. 

He took his wife’s hand and slowly pulled her inside, and she blindly obliged, still staring at the carpeted floors until he felt his nimble fingertips on her the side of her face.

Surely, it was unethical for two _married_ superiors dry humping at a workplace, but it was done in a private space and they had every right to do so.

And whatever unfolded in front of her eyes clearly was disreputable. 

“Raquel, honey, please hear me out,” he begged her as he cupped her face with his hands.

This wasn’t where she wanted doubt to take place.

...

_There was the cool breeze that took over the comfortable silence - it was too comfortable that Sergio almost stuck his head against the headstone of his father’s grave. Raquel sat cross-legged beside him, knees firmly touching and arms brushing against each other. He watched her take photos of the crowns of the trees around them with the camera they’ve agreed to share, beaming to herself as another piece of film slid out with another silhouetted shot._

_“You’re the first person that I brought here. Have I told you that?” Sergio gently let out, and she turned to him with a small teasing smile._

_“I doubt it,” she said, slipping the film in his breast pocket and patting it as a reminder that he should keep it. “As if you and Andres haven’t had a picnic here while reading books like the nerds that you guys are.”_

_He earnestly shook his head and shifted closer to her. It felt natural to be around Raquel, to share the things he had never shared with anyone before. It hadn’t been a year since they met and he’d been slowly letting his guard down and baring himself. There was only one reason: he trusted her with all his heart._

_“Really?” she asked, keeping the camera inside her backpack and following his gaze across the alternate columns of trees and headstones. She didn’t know whether to be heartbroken or happy to be in this place, but a part of her was relieved to be in deeper intimacy with him, be it nimble and absurd. She most definitely loved the peace he would always bring to wrap her in. “What was he like? Your dad, I mean.”_

_He let out a soft chuckle as he adjusted his glasses, all of his sentiments haunting his expression. “He was rigid. Sometimes loose when he felt like it. Mostly strict.”_

_“But he loved you, right?” Raquel whispered, her voice seeping a whiff of calmness in his veins._

_Sergio met her mournful eyes and bit his lip. “Just not in the way I wanted to be.”_

_She was silent, a tear sliding down her rose-red cheek._

_“I understand that he had a hard time showing it because of the harsh environment that he grew up in. He was also deprived of affection just like I was,” he croaked out with a voice that almost painfully dried out in his throat. “I’ve always loved him and I wasn’t afraid to show it. What could be his life if even his own son had forfeited the love he wasn’t able to receive when he was young?”_

_“Sergio…” she breathed, holding back another tear._

_He reluctantly reached out his hand and brushed the tears from her cheek. “I didn’t take you here just to make you cry. I’m sorry.”_

_She waved it off with a chortle and grabbed his hand away from her face. “Out of all the friends you’ve made through the years to celebrate your dad’s birthday, why’s it me that you’ve decided to take?”_

_He rested his elbow on his knee, staring at the blissful afternoon sun that lit up the honeyed spots of her eyes._

_‘Love is the most impossible thing that would ever happen to someone like you,’ he was once told by his father, and all his life, he thought he was right._

_But now, his father was right no more._

_Sergio didn’t answer her, but instead, he held her hand and gently pulled her head to rest on his shoulder. She gladly eased herself on him, following the tender course of the wind as he brushed her hair with his fingers._

_He still couldn’t bring himself to say anything about how he felt. All he could do for now was to put his trust in her. He wondered if she would ever do the same._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for reading! you can find me on twitter! (@witchmurillo)


	11. Everything is Fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy holidays! i hope you are all looking after yourselves today. 
> 
> i just want to give my dear readers a hug. i didn’t even realize that this work is worth reading until you guys decided to read and roll with the story—no matter happens. thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart.

_“I’m staying over,” Raquel said to the phone as she fumbled for the keys in her backpack, squinting under the half-light of the hallway of Sergio’s apartment. “We shot something near your building and it rained cows so I may as well stay here ‘cause I miss you so much and thank God, umbrellas exist.”_

_She heard a heavy sigh from the other line, which made her crack a little smile._

_“I miss you too,” he said, his voice soothing and delicate._

_The door screeched open, Raquel softened as she bent down to wiggle off her damp boots and place them neatly on a rag, switching on the lights in the living room. She left a dripping yellow umbrella open to dry by the door and threw her bag on his couch. “When will you come home?”_

_“They’ll wrap up this team building in two days. I don’t think I can survive Minnesota that long. Without you, at least.”_

_“Two days. Just get warm, take care of yourself,” she said wistfully, then poked her head in the kitchen. “What a surprise—no dishes on the sink tonight. Good boy.”_

_“I’ve changed, you know,” he said, and she could hear him mirroring her smile. “Don’t get drunk so you won’t throw up on Dad’s carpet again. Naughty girl.”_

_“Don’t worry, I’ll be up early tomorrow and the last thing I want is a hangover and your Dad haunting me from his grave,” she answered while placing the phone in between her shoulder and the side of her head to walk over his bedroom. “Have you picked up the laundry?”_

_“Yeah, and most of the clothes were yours since you just take them off and leave them in my room and never use them again.”_

_“Are you complaining?” she teased, a mischievous smile on her face as she clutched the handle of the wooden cabinet by the bed to open it._

_“No,” he answered. “I love keeping your things in my apartment.”_

_“I bet you’ll love keeping my thongs too,” she whispered._

_“Oh.”_

_She snorted. “Kidding.”_

_Stifling a giggle, she checked every piece of garments she could see in their closet. There were a couple of compartments where he kept some of her inner tops and track pants, and in no way that she had the intention to use them at the moment. “Where’s the shirt that you got from Andres? It’s the most comfortable one for me to wear.”_

_“I brought it with me. You can try on a different one. Be my guest.”_

_“I’m literally your girlfriend.”_

_He chuckled. “And my guest.”_

_Raquel made a face and snorted as she sorted through, she couldn’t stress this enough,_ _their_ _closet. “Seriously, Sergio, I miss that shirt. I don’t think I can ever wear anything else.”_

_“My p-”_

_“Don’t you dare say ‘pajamas’. No,” she grumbled through clenched teeth, but what she did next proved otherwise as she tried to sift through the unending piles of striped cotton wear at the most irreproachable spot of the cabinet because he liked to keep them as neatly as possible. A snort came out of her mouth again, loud enough to make him snicker._

_“What do you say? Are you going to give it a try?” he proposed breathlessly, and she figured he was enjoying himself from toying with her._

_She clicked her tongue. “What makes you think I can give in that easily?”_

_“Point one: It’s winter, Raquel. They stretch past the length of your limbs to keep your feet warm.”_

_That alone made her weak on the knees, but she tried not to show it. “Point two? Come on, step up your game. I need you to be more convincing,” she jested._

_“Point two: They smell like me. I have five pairs in red. Go and get one.”_

_“Deal.”_

_She did as he said, unfolding one and feeling it on her skin. Indeed, it smelled like him and it felt warmer than she thought. Her sleepiness may have been summoned by its softness._

_“How is it?”_

_With an instinctive rolling of eyes that she would do whenever he wins an argument, she put him on speaker and tossed the phone on the bed. “I guess I’m gonna be a nerd tonight.”_

_Sergio began chortling on the phone, which made her stomp her feet as she stripped herself naked and carelessly put on his pajamas._

_“You would be the coolest nerd I’ve ever met. What do you have against my pajamas anyway?”_

_She crawled to her side of the bed and placed the phone on his pillow, lying on her stomach and watching the shadows swallow her longing for him. It’s only been a day, goddamn it, she reminded herself._

_“Nothing,” she said, her voice almost dry from drowsiness. “They look cute on you, but I guess PJs are just not for me.”_

_“But I hope it’s making up for the embrace that I owe you tonight?”_

_“It is.” She smiled as she rolled to his side of the bed and draped her arms over herself. “They don’t feel as bad as I thought.”_

_“Good. Now go get some sleep. You’ve had a long day. Love you,” said his muffled voice on the phone, but her eyelids were already too heavy to keep them open against her will of talking to him all throughout the night._

_..._

If words have a way to prick themselves into the tip of your tongue, then it must hurt like a needle. But to Sergio, it didn’t feel like a small sharp projection piercing itself through his nerves—it hurt like he was stabbed in the throat that he had lost the ability to speak and think clearly. 

Raquel was speechless, and the silence could only be filled with the smell of the take-out risotto she had bought for him. It was quite ironic of him to eat it while letting the hands of another woman clutch his well-built shoulders—the exact same ones she would have been burying her fingers in if it weren’t for Angel’s interruption. But first, an explanation would do her fine, assuming it would be enough reason for her not to leave him be and let him take the cab when he goes home. 

She tried to lift her head up to face him and unclenched the fist she didn’t realize she was making. “What was that all about?” she asked, her voice dry and cold. 

Sergio hesitated, then slowly let go of her hands like she was a ticking time bomb and he had no idea of her mechanism. How could he even know if she hasn’t figured it out herself?

“That was nothing,” he assured her in desperation. His whole body was in shock; hands trembling and the rest of his limbs frozen, as if he would burst into tears any moment as long as her stare of dread remained. “Raquel, there’s nothing between Dominique and me.”

She ran quivering fingers through her hair. A particular sensation of uncertainty gradually ceased in her veins. She was falling into an endless pit; you don’t know where and how you will end up—just like how she felt the moment she caught him in the act. She couldn’t believe life had dared to throw something unexpected at her at this point in her life.

“I messed up,” he said, thumbing the frustrated space between his eyebrows. “Dominique was mad at me and she has every right to be because I am messing up my job.”

She raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms on her chest. “Mad enough to forget her boundaries as your subordinate?”

“Maybe she did,” Sergio countered, gulping letting his chin linger in the trembling sensation that shot through his nerves. “I’m really sorry.”

“And you gave in to her madness,” she pressed, taking a step back from him. 

He tried to reach out to her hand but she shoved it away. “I was helpless and anxious and she seems to understand me and is it bad if I took the only assurance from the one who has been through every step of the way?”

“Then who am I to you?” she flared, and he jolted from where he stood, holding out his hands to calm her down. “If you don’t feel understood enough when you’re with me, then what the fuck am I doing here?”

“Raquel,” he replied solemnly, reaching out to tame her, to settle her down. 

It hurt that she needed to hear an answer as if it had not been clear since the beginning. Questioning her worth drained the hell out of her, but somehow it was a miracle that she was firmly standing in front of him, trying to fill the void that has been slowly taking place instead of her heart. 

“I’m trying,” she harped on with every bit of will she had inside her gut. “I am trying to understand you, to assure you that everything will turn out great because it’s what you need right now. It’s just unfair that you seek refuge from another person when I’m here dodging my work just to look after you because I don’t want you to suffer from the chaos inside your mind.”

He winced as he found it hard to extract his words from his splintered throat because he was a burden that she always had to carry. He didn’t have to take time to figure it out that all of his mess was heaving her down. 

All his life, he had felt like a burden to his father, and he didn’t want to be seen as one by his _wife._ It was too much. It was taking him down that he could just pop like a bubble to escape the tightening grip of his pride.

But he didn’t.

“Raquel, I didn’t ask you to do all of this for me, did I?” 

This was the moment when the words that stabbed his throat ricocheted to her throbbing chest.

She looked at him, a shot of terror bulging her eyes wide. “Sergio…”

Everything felt as if Raquel was underwater. Every move she tried to make was to fight its density. She could barely breathe. She was exhausted to even hold her breath. She was sinking deep into misery, then deeper into the part of a trench that light couldn’t even find a way to reach in. 

A gash must have scraped her chest because it felt like it was bleeding all the pieces she had lost from herself just to save him. 

She wished he knew how it was like for all your efforts to be smeared by merely a word, but what kind of wife would wish something like that on her husband? If only she could be selfish just for once, but she loved him and she always will. No matter how _shitty_ he had made her feel, she still wanted nothing for him to be alright.

For God’s sake, did he even deserve her? She could only let out a taunting laugh and behind every breath would be a gasp for help.

Raquel strode to the couch for her handbag and gestured to his unfinished food on the desk, acting as if there were no tears streaming down her face. He rushed to wipe them off, guilt taking over his whole body, but she held out a palm to stop him and he stood miserably in the middle of the room, pondering on why he went wrong. 

A shard of emptiness was painted on her face as she walked to the door, leaving him completely lost. 

“Finish your food and take the cab home,” she reminded him but the pain didn’t leave her eyes. It was still there, ruling her senses. 

They shared one rueful look that she broke as soon as her patience started wearing off.

“Raquel, please,” he begged, grasping her arm, but she shook it off from his grip and started walking away without looking back. 

When the love of your life basically implied that he didn’t need the piece of you that you didn’t bother putting back in just to make him complete, you don’t expect the sting to fade quickly, but you’re going to have to do something just to redeem your pride. So she kept going, head high. Through the doors, the empty hallways where bright lights hovered, then out into the lobby, Raquel simply let the tears dry onto her skin and wished it was that easy for the pain to disappear. 

...  
  


 _Guilt_.

It was what threw Sergio off guard as he crushed himself onto the sofa and caressed the ring on his finger. What was once the only glimmer in the dark was now heralding a devastating storm. He rubbed his thumb through its steel-cold surface as if there was an empathy connection so she could feel it on hers. 

But he knew it was stupid to think he could pull her back as much as he pushed her away.

He rubbed the ring again in the hope of seeing her come back to him and take him home. Still, no hint of a shadow in the doorway. Indeed, he was a coward. With that, he buried his hands in his palm and knocked a fist on his forehead, feeling the shame sear his chest and boil his blood. 

_Shame._

It was what made him dig up all the things he had failed to do in the past and knock them on his face, so he buried his knuckles onto his thighs repeatedly until the ring fell off. 

No matter how tightly he had held on, it fell off.  
  


…

It was a relief to find her daughter still sleeping beside Alicia as she stumbled upon a small lego brick, letting out a painful groan. “Fuck,” Raquel muttered as she was about to tap her friend awake.

“Alicia,” she whispered, “you can go home now.”

The snoring red-head on the bed choked and slowly opened her eyes. She stretched her arms, fumbling for Raquel’s hands to help her up. “You came home late,” she said, still drowsy. “Agata’s supposed to take me out today.”

“Alright. Now, get out of here. Go back to your girlfriend.” Raquel countered in a hush while picking up Paula’s mess from the floor. “Thanks for looking out after Paula tonight.”

“No problem. And she’s not my girlfriend,” Alicia tried to admit, sitting on the edge of the bed and putting on her sandals.

“But you’re dating.”

She tried to dismiss it but given her friend’s suggestive look, it was hard for her. “We’re just trying to finish a painting together. Are you happy now?”

Raquel smiled, genuinely. At least, the talk was distracting her a bit. “You don’t share your pieces to anyone until they’re finished. Congratulations, then.”

Alicia huffed and rolled her eyes. “Thanks. Whatever.” She watched her tidy up her daughter’s room, squinting at the slender streaks of light slipping through the blinds; just a small fragment of the Manhattan cityscape inside their personal space. Those streaks fell on Raquel’s face as she looked around and satisfactorily rubbed her palms together. 

“I still don’t understand how you and your husband work your asses off during the day and still make time to fight and destroy monsters at night,” blurted the implicative red-head.

She frowned. “Monsters?”

Alicia smirked and pointed a finger at Paula who was sleeping peacefully. “Go ask your daughter. I bet it’s the bedsprings that you were trying to destroy.”

She winced at the mere thought of it, wondering how they unwittingly got past the times when they were better. Everything was happening so fast that she couldn’t grasp all of the lapses of time at once. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t lie.”

Raquel handed her friend the coat that she hung on the rack and forced a smile. “I bet Agata’s still waiting for you.”

Alicia grabbed the coat and pursed her lips. “I hope she won’t be mad.”

“You have to trust me if you really like her. Go after her. Do all the things that you want you to do together. Time is precious…” she trailed off, a tinge of melancholy painting her face. 

Even if they were under the shadows, Alicia could sense how Raquel suddenly went pale and...wistful? She wasn’t sure. “Hey, are you alright?”

“It’s overwhelming. Everything is overwhelming,” she admitted, letting the back of her leg hit the corner of the bed to gently push herself onto it, then she stared into the ceiling where stickers of butterflies and planets glowed, trying to find a glimmer of hope when there was none.

Alicia narrowed her eyes and stood on the edge of the bed. “Are you talking about work?”

“Yes,” Raquel lied, pushing down the lump on her throat. “It’s work. It has always been work.”

Alicia then bent down to ruffle Paula’s hair and caress Raquel’s hands that rested on her stomach. “Get some rest, then. I’m pretty sure you’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

“Enjoy your date.”

“Whatever, Raquel.”

Her lips twitch to a grateful smile that somehow stayed until her friend got out of the room and left the door half-open.

Raquel was grateful because she had found solace to wrap herself in even just for a minute, even if it was uncertain whether it would last longer than she needed it to. She reached out a hand to touch her daughter’s cheek, pouring all the affection she could give her tonight. 

“Hi, baby,” she croaked out, admiring the delicate lines of her face. “Mommy missed you.”

A gentle press of her lips on Paula’s forehead was what made a single tear roll down her cheek. She managed to smile through it, brushing her fingers through the little girl’s hair.

“I’m sure Daddy would want to hug you now if he’s not busy,” Raquel whispered in her ear. No matter how many times she had to hold herself back, she didn’t want to get Paula into this mess. This was something both of them should handle on their own, only now she had no idea how. 

She stayed there for a long while, whispering to herself that everything would be alright in time, that Sergio would come to his senses, and she would too, that he was just out there trying to absorb everything and he wasn’t giving up on himself. 

Why did she leave him there? Now, she had no idea how he was doing at the moment. But she was still mad. She couldn’t bring herself to hope for the better after what he had said. 

And in that very moment, Sergio came home and stood in the slit of the doorframe, staring as she helped herself up on the headboard. He was just a couple of meters away so he could hear that she was trying to keep her sad and angry sniffles down so as to not wake their daughter up. He couldn’t bear to watch her like this, so he carefully opened the door even wider and walked into the room, hoping he could take her to bed. _Their_ bed.

“Raquel…” he softly uttered, and she looked up, her mascara smudging from her lashes to the dense bags under her eyes. “You haven’t slept yet.”

“I was just about to take a shower,” she fended off and squared her shoulders, standing up and brushing past him. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, but she was too far to hear it now.   
  


…  
  


It was cold. When he went out of the bathroom and changed into his pajamas, it was still cold. He paced beside the bed and rearranged their parenting books in any order he could think of, but he didn’t feel any better. 

Sergio wore the pair of pajamas with the thickest layer of fabric, turned the thermostat of the air conditioner higher, and draped himself thoroughly with the duvet. Still, he shivered under it. 

The fact that Raquel was able to peacefully sleep without being pressed to him was baffling. She would always need to be held in bed. _It keeps the nightmares away,_ she once said. And yet here she was: placed at the farthest end of the bed, her back turned to him, breaths at a steady rhythm. 

That explained the coldness that was painfully hanging in the air. He needed her warmth, as much as she would need his at all the times prior to this night. There was nothing else to do, she was fine on her own—in the meantime, he hoped. Maybe it would be better to give her the space that she needed. She was exhausted. 

With that, Sergio slumped his back deeper into the cotton spreads he had laid before they went to bed, surrendering to the cluttered spiral of his thoughts that he had no control of… _Raquel’s innateness, the words he didn’t mean to utter, the spasms inside his head that crawled like a colony of ants into his skull..._

“Sergio?”

He was pulled out from his void by the hoarseness of the voice that she tried to let out. There was no hesitation; he immediately rolled closer and ran nimbly a finger through the length of her bare arm that rested on the side of her body. Her eyes were forced shut, but she kept saying his name. He sighed and whispered hers back.

“What do you need?” he mumbled to her ear. 

She shifted to face him and rubbed her eyes. “I’m cold.”

Sergio pulled the sheets up to her shoulders and gestured her to lean on his chest, but she simply lifted her head from the pillow and shook it, to his disappointment. He thought he was finally getting to hold her to sleep, but she really needed her space. 

“Your pajamas,” she uttered softly, nudging his arm with her elbow, and his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“What about them?” he asked.

She tugged the sleeve of his shirt and nodded in the direction of the couch. With a wave of realization rushing to him, he quickly got up from the bed to pick up the pair of pajamas he had prepared for her just in case she would get cold. He knew this was coming. 

“You should’ve told me sooner so you didn’t have to wake up at this time of the night,” Sergio muttered, and she grabbed the garment from his hand and sat on the bed to slide off her sleeveless nightgown. She let him study her shivering figure in the dark, with his own being frozen in place. With each piece that she put on, his eyes followed the trail of her fingers, wishing he could have the whole freedom to feel her again with his skin.

He reminded himself that she was half-asleep and at the threshold of her consciousness.

“This feels nice,” she mused to herself without meeting his eyes, laying her body back under the covers. He reluctantly lied down right beside her, making sure there was at least enough space in between them.

As much as Raquel hated to admit it, she anticipated what he would do next, but sighed when he didn’t even move an inch closer. With that, she closed her eyes and pretended that everything was fine. 

She wasn’t mad and he wasn’t guilty. 

They fought their reluctance to talk things through. 

It was all going well.

“Good night,” she whispered almost indistinctively to his sleeping figure, but he couldn’t battle the heaviness of his eyelids anymore. He had to give in. 

_Everything is fine..._

_Until they’re not._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, guys. don’t lose hope. let’s keep on hanging on and see what’s going to unfold in the last few chapters, shall we?
> 
> find me on twitter: @witchmurillo


	12. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. happy new year to everyone. as a few of you have known, i took a break from posting my works because i’ve been told by an anonymous reader a non-constructive comment that brought my self-esteem to shambles (i deleted it from the Legal Hurricane comment section. i don’t want bad vibes under my works). 
> 
> anyway, it feels great to back here to share my stories. thankfully, i’m doing better now. i hope you are all at your best. i love you guys so much. thank you for reading my story! 
> 
> p.s. to that AO3 Karen, a big fuck you to whoever you are. you can call me a try-hard writer or anything you want, but that wouldn’t stop me from writing. i hope you’re contemplating on what you’ve done and become a better person than someone who degrades people you barely know on the internet. 
> 
> p.s.s. to my three sad grandmas and yel, meg, adri, and rheana: i love you. thank you for helping me cope up.

It was six in the morning and Sergio’s hand slid through the covers, reaching for the familiar warmth and scent he was used to waking up to—only to find the space beside him hollow. The sight made his gut twist and feel like bleeding. 

He jolted up fully awake as if he had been letting himself linger in a nightmare while half-asleep, and then a loud rumble in his stomach made him clumsily roll out of bed to get to the door, his desire to breathe her and kiss her and hold her until they have to get ready for work already warping into his impatience for touching a piece of food and at least a couple glasses of water. Glancing one more time on Raquel’s side of the bed, he wondered what she must be doing at this hour; he would usually wake up before she did. 

But first, food.

What hailed him when he got out of their bedroom was the whir of the blender from the kitchen. He had always hated the sound of it; he thought it was too irritating that he wanted to plug his ears with his fingers. But it was just Raquel making a vegetable smoothie so he froze uneasily on his feet and let her be. 

As he stood against the wall, he noticed she had rearranged the house plants by the center table and the windowsills and that everything seemed thoroughly clean. It dawned on him that she had been awake earlier than he thought. She usually wouldn’t finish all of this alone in less than an hour. 

Raquel immediately switched off the blender upon seeing him stand by the door from her periphery. “You forgot to get chia seeds from the market last week,” she grumbled without taking another glance in his direction. He just stood there, not knowing what to do next, wondering if this was just about chia seeds and nothing else. 

She wiped her hands on a towel and rested them on her hips, finally looking him in the eye as if he owed her a profound explanation.

“Sorry about that.” Sergio looked down on his feet and clipped his nails. Who would’ve thought they would reach this point in the marriage where there was a lot of tension in the air that he could barely catch his breath?

With all the courage he had gathered from sleep, he walked over behind her as she sighed and turned her back to pour the smoothie into a couple of glasses, then gently wrapped his arms around her waist. 

This wasn’t the space she would be theoretically asking from him, but just in case she had already cleared her mind from shock, the first thing he wanted her to feel was that she was enough. 

Raquel felt her eyelids heavy against her reflex and almost surrendered into his arms but that would mean letting herself break before she could even pick up the pieces he had shattered her into.

He might have realized where he went wrong, considering the look in his eyes. Still, she couldn’t give in, not with the fact that keeping his problems from her was a mere part of his instinct as if he hadn’t turned them into her aid to ease him emotionally. 

Before she could break free, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in. She wished he could see how she winced and bit her lip to suppress a wave of sound from her throat.

“Can we talk?” he whispered.

Still afraid to show that his caress provoked some serious longing, she ran her hand through his arm and took his elbow in a grip to gently put by his side, feigning complete exasperation. “Go prep breakfast.”

With that, he reluctantly let her go. “Sorry.”

“You know my smoothies aren’t up for consumption without chia seeds but here you go,” Raquel insisted as she slid one of the smoothies in his direction, gesturing to him to drink it while it was fresh.

She was not accusing him nor blaming him. She didn’t sound like talking down to him, either. She was stating a simple fact that he, indeed, had forgotten the staple of one of the things that helped her clear her head. To her, it didn’t sound like a matter to be disappointed in, neither was it something that she should laugh about. 

His wife might as well have handed him an empty sheet of paper and let him write whatever he wanted. However he would react, it was all up to him. Sergio understood that she didn’t want to be liable for his feelings, which was to contrast how he had been for hers. This was all his fault. His words from last night were out before he could even hear them.

_Stupid._

He needed to drink the smoothie, but it felt heavy to do so with the stirring load of disdain she had sprinkled it with.

Left with no choice, Sergio took his apron and started to make breakfast sandwiches which would usually take him more or less fifteen minutes to prepare while Raquel left to get a couple of parenting books from their room. She tossed a copy on his spot in the dining table and kept the other one between her fingers. It was to refrain from having to talk as they ate. 

She sat, read a little bit from a page, and silently watched him cook, letting out a deep sigh when he almost chopped off a finger from cutting the chives and another when he flinched from the sudden splashing of olive oil from the pan to his wrist. Thankfully, the damage didn’t leave painful marks on his skin so she didn’t have to take over and have an actual interaction with him. It was just a little blotch of swelling on the back of his hand. Surely, he could handle a blotch by himself. 

He used to be afraid of manning the kitchen until she gradually led him into it. Now, it was a pleasure of his to cook for them every morning, although with haphazard attempts at her recipes sometimes, but he loved doing so. That’s why she gave him the spotlight today despite waking up early enough to cook it herself. 

He managed to pull it through even with being distracted by his self-loathing thoughts almost half the time. 

When Sergio looked over his shoulder to check on her, she quickly spun her eyes on the parenting book and pretended to be fascinated by the last paragraph of the _How You Should Keep Your Child Busy at Home_ section. He went back to his business of transferring the sandwiches on a plate and placing it in front of her. 

“Should we wait for Paula?” he asked before pulling a chair beside her.

“Nothing will stop you from eating if you’re starving, Sergio,” Raquel answered without meeting his eyes, but managed to glance at the way his hand was desperately on his stomach. 

Was there a way to say sorry to ask for forgiveness that was in line with her wishes? If Sergio was to find it, there must have been a minor impediment like a barricade tape to keep him out as if there were potential hazards in that area. 

It turned out, his conviction to get this through was a wavering flicker in the dark. 

So Sergio slid out his chair, scratching his head in impatience and munching on his sandwich. Raquel did not move an inch from what she was reading as she fought the urge to slide any senses to his direction—her sandwich untouched just as how much his smoothie was. 

There was an exchange of unspoken bemusement from the fact that she was not eating what he had made for her, and he was not drinking what she had made for him. 

_Funny_. 

If this would be unbosomed to these clueless hearts of yesterday, they wouldn’t be able to grasp it until it comes abruptly on the way. 

Even funnier, the silence was _comfortable_ enough for his hands to quiver so badly as he grabbed the fork, making her shoot a glance which only lasted for a couple of seconds. 

That’s when Paula’s voice made both their heads swivel to the stern end of the hallway. “Good morning!” she beamed, and the equally-frustrated couple shared a brief moment of relief to digress themselves from their painfully awkward moments alone. 

The child ran to Raquel’s open arms to be peppered with a lot of kisses on the face. She smiled and carried Paula on the lap. “You’re up early,” she mused. 

The little girl giggled and clung to Raquel’s neck. “I slept as soon as Aunt Alicia got me out of the shower!”

Her mom pouted and cupped her chin. “That’s alright, baby. At least, you’ve gotten enough rest to keep you energized for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, Mommy,” Paula answered and jumped down from Raquel’s lap to give Sergio a hesitant embrace. 

“Daddy, you were late for our storybook reading last night. We didn’t even get to read in the first place,” she panned, wearing a precious, sullen expression that made him purse his lips. 

_Oh_ , to be at fault by the two stubborn ladies in his household. Indisputably, Sergio was living the good life. He would’ve crumbled deep inside if it weren’t for the fact that they were the only people he genuinely cherished. 

“Tonight, Daddy will make time for you,” he promised, more to himself than their daughter—but mostly to his wife. 

Raquel looked fixedly at the both of them, shedding a tear and holding down the lump in her throat. At this point, as long as their dearest Paula was happy with them, it was more than enough, no matter what state her relationship with Sergio was in. Yet it didn’t stop her from trying to figure out what to do next with _him_. 

It was a nuisance rather than a sentiment that love doesn’t cease its existence even with the smallest twist. 

When he pulled away, he led Paul to her seat, brushing past Raquel as he set their daughter’s plate and milk. She couldn’t miss the look he was giving her: a spiral of yearning and guilt. But she gave back something that said: _Not today. Definitely not today._ She needed more time to figure this out without any interference. 

After he took his seat, there was only silence and the gentle clatter of the stainless utensils against the ceramic plates, which was the case prior to Paula, who was once again, breaking the silence to talk about her hatred for math stretching forth her love for science.

“Either way, baby, you should still do well and there will be so many opportunities waiting for you,” Sergio butted in between her enthusiastic chattering. And when she took a short pause to eat, Raquel cleared her throat and leaned into his side.

“I thought we’re not supposed to put too much academic pressure on her,” she grimly reminded him, then turning to smile at their daughter who was now cutting her sandwich into messy pieces. 

He froze then heaved a weary breath, putting down his fork and knife as he finished his food and the smoothie that he finally devoured, to her satisfaction. “We didn’t push her to have tutorial sessions after class, Paula did that herself. That means she’s willing to improve. I just gave her a little encouragement,” he whispered, slightly annoyed, but submissive enough to understand what she meant.

The thing is, frustration can spread like a wildfire once you give yourself the fuel. That was what Raquel did, but what choice would she have when her husband had insensibly let pride take over his instincts? At that point, she let the frustration take over hers, taking any of his slight blunders into notice, even the ones he didn’t intend to do.

It relieved her that she didn’t have the energy, to be frank and straightforward today, for she would’ve told him that he could become the father that he was avoiding to be, the one who would expect too much from their child. But that would be too much for him. 

She still wouldn’t give herself the license to hurt him back. 

She just couldn’t. 

Hence, Raquel simply shook her head and finished her smoothie. To her surprise, Sergio wiped his mouth and stood up. She thought he was still going to join them for a while, but then again, she couldn’t see any reason why he would. 

“I’ll go ahead and shower, hmm?” he murmured. “Sorry for the chia seeds.”

He then leaned his head to hover above hers, and she glared at him as if to ask what he was trying to do. Slowly and discreetly, he pressed his lips on her forehead before he smiled at their daughter and walked out of the kitchen. 

Raquel closed her eyes and shivered, letting the echo of the kiss linger in her head and snake its way in her ears. It felt like the last line of a poem that was meant to be said over and over again to mark its profundity. And at that moment, he had coated it with the purpose of showing Paula that they were fine when it actually was to remind _Raquel_ of how things should have been. 

It was a quick kiss; barely a pierce on the skin, but it was enough to prick through her flesh and for her heart to be taken out of her rib cage. She could hear it throbbing as she cut her sandwich in half and as Paula, who had no idea what was going on, drank from her glass of water. 

They needed to be through this hell. So long as she let both of them thrive, Sergio wouldn’t give up. 

As he looked back one last time at his dazed wife and oblivious daughter before entering their bedroom, he twisted his wedding ring and hoped for something to happen that would let them find their way back to each other’s arms. 

…

_“Do you realize that it takes so much courage and emotional drive to create something out of nothing?” Sergio sentimentalized by the time she was out of the bathroom. He stared into the window, sitting at the edge of the bed and now well-aware that he was not talking to himself anymore. When she didn’t answer, he turned his head to find her hauling through the shelf across the room for a book. “Raquel?”_

_She had her hands resting around her kneecaps to level the bottom shelf, seemingly immersed in thought and indecision._

_“Raquel?”_

_She finally looked up, raising her eyebrows, and he leaned his hand on the mattress to relax. “What?” she asked as she decided to pick something written by John Milton._

_Sergio crawled to his side of the bed, and Raquel, with yet another book that she knew she wouldn’t have the time to finish because of her errands, joined him. It was that night when he needed something to be preoccupied with after wrapping up an indie movie production and she was home later after a long, exhausting day in the newsroom._

_“You were having your moment, weren’t you?” she presumed while he leaned over to pull the blanket over her legs._

_Now it was her time to ask for a crumb of his attention since he immediately fell dazed against the headboard. “Honey?”_

_He snapped away from his thoughts as she rested a hand on top of his thigh, caressing it over and over again as if it would completely tickle him out of his conception._

_“Sorry,” he muttered._

_Raquel frowned. “Are you okay?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, it’s just…my mind seems to be running out of ideas lately.”_

_She put away the book on the bedside table, her temporary source of entertainment might as well be damned. It didn’t seem like something she would finish, anyway. “Ideas for what?”_

_“The show. The one I’ve always wanted to write,” he casually answered. “I don’t think I’ll ever write something worthwhile anytime soon.”_

_Raquel let out a small huff as she laced their fingers together and pulled them on her lap. It took a second for her to figure how to say something that wouldn’t hurt his feelings, so she looked up at him and smiled penitently._

_“Look, Sergio. This is your life, I know that well,” she started out, keeping her voice calm and steady, “but don’t you think it would exhaust you if you go and on and on without having a break? I mean, you’ve just finished a project! That’s huge enough.”_

_He pursed his lips. “It’s hard to manage a penny when you work in the arts, you know that.”_

_“It’s harder to manage a penny when you overwork in the arts. You could get sick. You know that, but it would probably take you years to understand,” she countered. “Besides, I’m getting paid with good money in the news so no need to worry about opportunities. At least, for now.”_

_“It’s a hobby. The more I work, the more I take something worthy from life. And I guess we at least need some extra stash to save up just in case.”_

_“I know, but treat yourself with something else, wouldn’t you? You’re obviously tired.”_

_“I do treat myself with something else. There are other things that I also like to exert on my work desk.”_

_“Like what, fucking?”_

_He swallowed a large density of air in his throat, trying to keep himself together. “Please keep our sex life out of the narrative.”_

_“You’re just afraid to admit that our sex life is doing better than you.”_

_“Why are you like this when you’re tired?”_

_“At least, I get tired. Do you?”_

_He stared at her as she raised an eyebrow. This was one of the times when she would dig in through everything just to prove a point and there existed only one rule: she would always come to it no matter what he would say._

_She understood that he was born and raised in a home where recognition was hit with such precision, therefore she as well the pressure that grew on him to hit them with accuracy. But he also needed to understand that the world doesn’t only revolve around what you gain; it spins to a phase where you lose, too._

_And yet, Raquel couldn’t consider breaking it to his face despite being at her most straightforward state tonight—even if it was something that was left by her extremely busy life. He wouldn’t even listen to her, as expected, since taking a habit out of the picture takes time and a lot of courage to gather and she didn’t want him to be overwhelmed._

_“I’ve said so many things today, but my point is: it’s not every day that you find yourself free from the things that hold you back. Enjoy those days while you can.”_

_If there was a sensible reason why Sergio had asked her what cognitions would cross her mind when she gets tired, it would be the way she would strike any point without hesitation. Somehow, he also wanted that for himself. He couldn’t even distinguish the line between his work and the life he lived outside of it. She knew him better than he did himself, and there was quite a dissatisfaction from that. But he tried to see it as an honor to have Raquel know him this well, simply because she’s Raquel—nothing to be further explained._

_He pulled their entwined hands on his lap and his other hand swayed her head to rest on his shoulder, caressing the silk of her hair. “What if the things that are setting me free are also the ones holding me back?”_

_She was close to dying inside since she had felt the low rumble of his voice erupt through his body as he said those words._

_Sergio is a being of questions, he makes them as much as he was made with them. Sometimes she would wonder if he had gotten a void where he kept them, how many times he had to hold back himself from asking too much, from demanding a lot of answers from the world._

_This is Sergio._

_She would bear with him as much as she would, as often as she could, so long as her heart would let her. She was right to take the steps gradually to ensure that he was coming into deep realization about his choices in life._

_“You said a little about creating something out of nothing a while ago.” Raquel settled her head lower from his shoulder until he had to hold her against his chest. “Tell me more about it. Think of it as something related to your mere existence rather than your struggles with coming up with something for work, please.”_

_“I have a feeling that you’re tired of hearing about the moments when I get stuck in poetic oblivion,” he said, brushing her hair with his fingers._

_She yawned, then fully slid herself a little further down until she was laying her head on his lap. She hummed when he started running his fingers through her hair. “It’s you. I don’t get tired from being tired when it comes to dealing with you.”  
  
_

…

Sergio looked faintly dejected upon being left alone in the conference room, without anyone to talk to and hardly an extremely complicated job to distract him. It was nice to see his team’s dynamic back and working, whatever miracle the universe had performed on them. So far, that was the only good thing that happened to him today. Have his wife talk to him again like normal and everything would be better.

But that did seem impossible when he thought about it over again, so he had to think until all the special papers on the table turned into well-crafted cranes. Still, no idea how to approach Raquel the best way possible. 

What was he going to do? It was obviously not a choice to force her into it. He had to let her be or she would lash out. All he knew was that there was no time to give up. He needed to make her feel that he was always there, waiting for her to give him another chance. 

And when he was given another factor to consider on how to make it up to her, he didn’t expect it to be the moment when the door creaked open and Dominique appeared in front of him, guilt written all over her face. He stiffened as she stood by the nearest chair next to where he sat, avoiding proximity and anything that might be deemed intimate. None of them could afford another misunderstanding. 

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, then quickly pulled a recoiled expression when his colleague took a step back from intimidation.

She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. “My conduct last night was inappropriate and unprofessional, something that you never wanted in your workspace ever since. Therefore, I’m sorry for causing an undesirable personal settlement merely from matters with work.”

“I’m really sorry, Sergio,” she added. 

He looked down on one of his paper cranes and rubbed his fingers against it until its edge got crumpled. “You’re right. You’ve caused a sheer misunderstanding between me and my wife. As much as I want to keep it personal, I just want you to know that it’s something that’s not easy to fix.”

Dominique flinched and bit her lip. “If you want me to keep my distance, then I would be willing to do it. You can take me out of the project or-”

“Dominique, nothing happened between us. It was a misunderstanding,” Sergio insisted, a little afraid that one of his credible subordinates was willing to risk their work just so he could mend his personal life. “I cannot discredit you for what you’ve contributed for the past few years nor keep you out just like that.”

“But if Miss Murillo is uncomfortable with us working together, don’t you think it’s wiser for me to be under a different project?”

“I did not say anything about Raquel being uncomfortable, I was just pointing out how the repercussions of last night’s events are difficult to mend. And that’s to make you realize that no matter how much I deserved the criticism, you have limitations on how to give them.”

She looked down at the table and nodded. 

“I understand the pressure of handling things for our choices to be practical and relevant, but going out of our boundaries to manage them is unethical and disrespectful.”

Dominique took all of it in as she braced her gaze to meet his, giving in to the desire to reproach herself. “Thank you, Sergio. May I ask for permission so I can see Miss Murillo later? I feel like I owe her a talk.”

He nodded. “If she lets you, then don’t hesitate to grab that opportunity to make things right and be at peace.”

“I will. I owe you that, too,” she said. “I’ll see you when we start scouting for a few locations. It’s either tonight or tomorrow.”

“See you,” he replied, then she stood up and walked away, leaving him full of hope that it would go well now that things are about to be settled. 

He was anxious to finally have a piece of Raquel’s mind about all of this so that he could draw conclusions on where they stood. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t take it anymore. It hasn’t been twenty-hours since they fought and he was missing her already. And no, it wasn’t just the constant love language they would give each other which was the physical attachment that made him long this much—the emotional adherence, too. The invariable feeling that they were happy and that everything was fine. The contentment. The point where there was not a single conflicting viewpoint from every inflection.

That seemed to be something from history. 

Uneasiness crept up to him and threw stones of realization right on his face. This felt like they were reliving their discord from last week, only less enduring and more heart-rending. 

He found his fingers faltering a swift rhythm of keys on his phone, writing a paragraph of how sorry he was for everything, that he thought it over to realize how disappointing he was, and that he will always wait for her. He deleted it right after only to write one simple message that wasn’t too overwhelming and cheesy, but also subtle and flowing with concern. Until he went back to his office, he held onto the hope of her texting back. 

…

A few hours since they made their way into the office building and separated in the lobby, and the only contact Raquel has ever gotten from him was a text—not even a call. She could see his willingness to fix everything but he couldn’t even manage to call. But she knew he was working, either because he had to or he just needed to escape from his thoughts. It could be both, but the point is, she understood.

Instead, she had gotten a text. A simple one. A favor. Even if it was something that she had expected from him, it was more than enough for her to slam her phone on the pile of paperwork Crystal was supposed to retrieve this morning. 

_From: Sergio_

_[10:49 a.m.] Hi. Are you coming home early tonight?_

_  
_She grabbed the phone again and unlocked it, a little pissed for having the combination of their birthdays as her password, then replied: _Let me guess, you’re asking me to cover for your story-telling with Paula tonight because you’re busy._

She hit ‘Send’. 

_From: Sergio_

_[10:51 a.m.] Raquel._

_[10:51 a.m.] Can I call?_

This time, it was her forehead’s turn to be slammed on the desk. 

Her fingers have never felt this heavy when tapping on a self-mandated response, one that she fully meant and basically threw in at the same time. Hesitation clouded over all of a sudden, this would mean letting her guard down once again. She realized that hearing his voice might make it harder for her to cope up. Maybe creating a little bit more space would be the way to go. 

However, with the pressure that was set upon them for being married and having a child, and that Sergio was having struggles within the boundaries of his mind, she didn’t think it was practical to avoid each other. Because no matter what, they were vowed to be there. Always. 

_Sure._

That one word made Raquel stand up and dash to the mini-fridge inside her office, glad to see Crystal out of sight so no one would snatch a couple of cans of beer away from her. By the time she left the door open so Monique wouldn’t have to knock when she would finally deliver the files Raquel had been waiting for, his name was already on top of her screen. A finger slid through to answer it, reluctantly.

_“Raquel. Hi.”_

There went his unsettled voice from the other line. He sounded nervous and almost unsure of what to say next, so she was considerate enough to fill the prolonged silence with the first word that had crossed her mind. 

“Hi.”

_“I’ve been missing you.”_

“Sergio, I don’t think it’s the right time to-”

_“You don’t have to say it back. I just wanted you to know.”_

She released all of the air she had been accumulating inside her lungs, thinking of a way to respond because, really, it was hard to act as if nothing happened. How could he have all the guts to deliberately stall her out of what he had done? 

“Okay,” she said. _I’ve been missing you, too._

_“Okay. Have you eaten?”_

“Not yet, but I will later. Have you?”

_“I have. Monica made lunch for everyone on the team. In fact, she’s sending some to you.”_

“Oh, okay. That’s so sweet of her.”

 _“You know our mom-friend,”_ he said matter-of-factly. 

She smiled a little. “Of course.”

Awkward silence again, unfortunately, until he had to break it since it was his courtesy to her. 

_“Raquel, can we talk? For real this time?”_

“Is this why you’re asking if I’m coming home early?”

_“Maybe.”_

She didn’t answer, unconvinced.

_“Okay, yes.”_

“Look, it’s not gonna be easy to snatch me out from my work again.”

_“We’ve done it several times. We can do it again.”_

“Sure. How about dinner?” Raquel brought up, trying to sound casual so he would ease himself a bit. “Don’t you have work to do, though? Paperwork, opening your auditions...That’s at least what I’ve heard from the people around here.” 

_“That sounds good. And I don’t mind if I have to set out my excess limit for work as long as we’ll have enough time to talk.”_

He seemed certain this time, determined even, to forget about his ambitions and efficiency just for her. Somehow, it made her hopeful for good things to happen little by little, because she knew he was trying his best to own up to his mistake and she was just waiting for assurance to trust him. 

But Sergio skipping his work for her without even thinking about it? It was odd. If this was a totally different situation, she wouldn’t hide her exhilaration and flattery. 

“I’ll text you if I can make it.”

 _“Thank you,”_ he replied, a little fair and heartening. 

Before they could hang up, she rushed to say his name again. “Should I be available tonight, will you promise me one thing?”

_“Yeah.”_

“Please show up,” she pleaded with a small voice, shutting her eyes and letting a wave of longing wash over her. 

_“What?”_

“You heard me, Sergio. It’s not too much to ask.”

_“Of course, I did.”_

“I’m just making sure you won’t chicken out just you like did on our first date.”

Raquel wasn’t sure why she was smiling, but somehow, his willingness was settling her down. It wouldn’t hurt to throw a piece of reminiscence, would it? She heard him smile—she wasn’t just sure if it really was a smile or a sigh, but she knew the memory would make him shyly hide his face under his coat. 

_“I will show up, Raquel.”_

The only thing she could hear was his sincerity and she begged fate to make it worth his courage and her trust. 

“Thank you for still holding on,” she said, popping the can of her beer and drinking an ample amount of it. “Sorry for being too hard on you.”

_“Well, to be fair, I’m a bit unstable. I’m sorry, too.”_

They hung up, and she went back to her business with a flicker of new hope inside her heart—only to be interrupted by someone she wasn’t expecting to see. 

She feigned pleasantry at the woman who snuck inside her office with a white paper bag and a little note in her hands, all gorgeous and young and presentable. “Hello. You’re Dominique, right?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on twitter @witchmurillo! look forward to the next chapter coming in a couple of days maybe? ily stranger who still endures my work.


	13. Hold Me Closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just realized that i am 16 days past due on my assignment to edit and post this chapter. these past few days have drained the hell out of me. i am genuinely sorry for the delay. rest assured that i'm still delivering a good chapter *wink* *wink*. 
> 
> anyway, this one is my late birthday gift to my friend named yel who has illustrated a few chapters of this!! happy birthday. i hope you like your present. seriously, you are truly essential to this story. thank you for everything.
> 
> hey guys i really hope you'll love this chapter. please enjoy it!!

_Raquel was a little afraid to let the lotion on her palm dry out before she could even properly reach for her knee, her other hand caressing her tummy. It was right where the baby had been teeming for more than seven months now. She took a deep breath and attempted to apply the lotion without squeezing her abdomen, bracing herself for any contractions._

_Thankfully, there were none after a couple of minutes of resting her back onto the headboard, and then the bottle rolled out from her hand upon relaxation._

_Where is Sergio?_

_For the past several months, she had been relying on his comfort; longing for his embrace when the pain would become unbearable, and his voice when she would feel alone and unoccupied. Having him out of her sight would sometimes make her irritated, she had no idea why._

_The door creaked open and Sergio finally appeared with a glass of milk. She seemed pleasantly amused when she saw the bright yellow stress ball on his other hand where he drew a smiley face to ease her whenever her hormones acted up._

_“Sorry, it took me long.” He placed the glass on the table and the ball on her hand, then noticed the lotion that she had left open, sprawled by her side. “I forgot to bring the plants back in from the balcony.”_

_Raquel forced a smile through deep exhalation, just not to let dismay seep out from his calm. “It’s okay,” she managed to say, throttling the ball as hard she could that her nails almost dug through. Most of the time, a material to direct her impatience on was necessary._

_“Let me do that for you.” He grabbed the lotion bottle and knelt by her side._

_With weary eyes, she watched him squeeze an ample amount of lotion on his palm. He had his full attention on his spreading it on her legs, and it made her worry a little since he had been restless trying to do everything for her that he had no time to proofread what he had written at work this morning. Nevertheless, she let him do what he needed to do to project his excitement on something as he couldn’t wait to be a father and he had had a lot of emotions rolled into one. It took him three months to figure out how to contain them._

_“Sergio, you know I’m not having trouble applying lotion on my skin, right?” she lied, a bit guilty for piling up countless responsibilities on his plate._

_He stopped his hand from sliding down her knee so it was resting on her thigh, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to get tired.”_

_“It’s just lotion. I can do it just fine,” she insisted._

_“Honey, no. A while ago you were just complaining about how exhausting it is to walk around Central Park.”_

_“But then again, this is just lotion.”_

_Without a word, he continued scattering an even amount on her other leg, making sure his touch was gentle and a little therapeutic for her skittish moods. When he was done, he tossed the bottle on her kit and placed a kiss on her tummy. “Baby doesn’t like it when Mommy keeps on wearing herself out. Baby wants Mommy to rest.”_

_She narrowed her eyes. “Is it really Baby or Daddy?”_

_Sergio playfully scoffed and scrambled out of his side of the bed to hand her the milk. “Daddy,” he quietly admitted without meeting her eyes._

_Raquel suddenly burst into a tearful snicker as she hurled the stress ball to his bicep. “God, I hate you.”_

_Being used to her mood swings, he just nodded and pursed his lips. It was one thing to deal with Raquel’s stubbornness, and another to deal with her stubbornness while she’s pregnant, but he would beg the heavens for eternity just so he could deal with her coyness forever._

_“Drink your milk,” he said, settling himself right beside her. “By the way, what do you want me to read to you?”_

_“Anything Physics-related.”_

_There was no surprise to this. She had been giving absurd requests like this one, much to his pleasure since he was deemed adept when it comes to the subject._

_“Do you want me to illustrate a breakdown of how centripetal force works?”_

_She slurped from her glass and nodded enthusiastically. He had taken the responsibility to keep her comfortable while she had chosen to take hers by keeping him engrossed with his life and distracting him from the monotony of providing what she needed every day. “Anything just to see you wobble like the nerd that you are.”_

_He stood up and skimmed through one of his books on the nightstand, throwing tentative looks while she carefully drank her milk. “What about the first postulate of special relativity?”_

_Raquel decisively straightened, delighted to see a glimpse of enjoyment growing in his eyes. “Tell me about it.”_

_Sergio lifted the covers to snuggle next to her and opened the textbook on her lap. “There is no stationary hitching post in the universe relative to which motion should be measured. This is according to Einstein.”_

_“Hmm, Einstein,” she repeated, draining her glass._

_He looked up from the page to stare at her. “Yes, Einstein.”_

_She noticed his eyes lingering on hers then striding down her lips. He simpered tenderly as his thumb brushed the side of her cheek._

_A nervous laugh escaped her throat. “Honey, what are you doing? Don’t forget our baby’s right here,” she said while eyeing her tummy._

_He ignored her as he cradled the side of her face, eliciting a sweltering exhale from her._

_“You have a milk mustache,” he whispered._

_She quickly retreated back to her farthest side of the bed until her legs dangled on the edge, the empty glass still on her hand. “Goodnight, Sergio.”_

_He buried his face on the pillows to chuckle, trying to reach for her until she was completely off the bed to check her face in the mirror._

_“Sorry, I had to,” he said between raspy giggles._

_She faked a smile and slammed the door shut._

_Sergio had to sleep on the couch that night, but he woke up with an extra layer of a blanket and socks that he didn’t remember putting on before going to sleep—it was just enough to keep him warm._

  
  


…

  
  


Raquel wasn’t at peace with the fact that her beer was as bitter as the afternoon sun seeping through the window and that the heat throbbed through her skin. She couldn’t tell if her senses were playing tricks on her or that she wasn’t actually going numb with everything that was heaving her down. If it was the latter, then thank the heavens. 

From Sergio’s willful initiative to make things right, to Dominique handing her lunch from Monica and apologizing for causing the tension by giving her the wrong idea, she thought she was finally taking a liberal amount of peace. It turned out she wanted to deflect her from all the thinking she had to do. 

The thing with meeting Dominique again was that she saw how the woman wanted to do well in her pursuit for the show’s success; how she willed to test her limits and cross her boundaries, hence the incident from last night. 

_I was pushing myself to do all the work because I didn’t want to fail_ , the publicist explained. It was why she had tried cornering her husband to make him decide the next steps they were taking for his show. 

She was just like Sergio, she figured. 

That particular realization made her stand up and walk over the vast windows of her office so she could pull the blinds over them, but before she did so she took her time to squint through the faze of the sunlight for the life of the city just below. All those cars on the road were worthy of her envy as they accelerated from the traffic; she wished she could move forward from this phase just as easily. 

“It is what it is,” she emptily muttered to herself while taking the slowest steps back to her desk. 

Clearly, her husband loved his job. He loved every single detail he wrote in it, every process he would undergo, every piece of validation from the public and critics. That explained the way he was hounding his limits just to create something valuable for the people, and maybe that put out the spark to create his _art_ —the one he would do for himself, not to impress Raquel or his audiences, but the one that would fulfill his burning passion to simply _create._

What set him apart from what she had seen in Dominique was that she imparted pressure on her colleagues, just like she did when she tried to force him to do something to help her on her job, while he chose to keep his burden to himself. He chose to carry them on his back until it roughed up everything on his way, but he still needed her to get hold of his sanity. 

What she was too afraid to admit was that avoiding him when they fought was her instinctive move to keep herself from saying or doing something that might hurt him, so the dinner-talk might not have been a good idea while she bottled up doubts and was a little tipsy from the beer she had earlier while finalizing the bits of her paperwork. 

_Whatever._

Hastily, she pressed her palm against her face and bit her tongue. She still needed to get ready to fetch Paula from school so she could put her to bed earlier. As much as Alicia would always love to look after her goddaughter, Raquel knew that she wouldn’t appreciate her date nights being interrupted again. Maybe looking after her daughter all by herself could distract her from her thoughts in the meantime. 

She willed herself to pick up the employee evaluation forms the director had asked her to compile, not caring about whether she had everything collected or not since Crystal was to double-check by three-thirty. There was another unopened can of beer on the corner of her desk so she labeled it with her name on a sticky note and put it back in the mini-fridge. She could save it for another stressful time at work. 

Everything had been organized. Monique was asked to take over for her once again, with which she guessed her subordinate would be thrilled to do so. 

Raquel passed the hallways while trying not to bump into anyone from Sergio’s team as this would heighten her anticipation to see him. Thankfully, there were none of them until she reached the elevator where she found Dominique with the new head of an advertising group who was impossibly intimidating. 

She managed to smile at both of them as she entered. The woman nodded back and mouthed her greetings while listening to Mr. Manuel discuss his terms. She had been nice and sweet to her a while back, but now she seemed intimidating and a little uneasy—probably because she was in the middle of something serious for work. Most importantly, though, they had cleared things up between each other and she hoped she would put her limits into practice in their future encounters. 

Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket, she quickly slid it out and swallowed at the message that popped up on the screen. 

_From: Sergio_

_[3:09 p.m.] contract-signing event tonight, but I’ll be there._

She was hesitant to reply, surprised that she even got something from him. But he was keeping in touch and committed to doing so. She should be thankful for that, right?

 _Okay. Dinner at home. We can't go out. On my way to get Paula,_ she replied before closing her phone and sliding it into her coat pocket.

The elevator stopped with a _ding_ as Dominique and Mr. Manuel got out while in the middle of discussing something assumptive. 

Then came Crystal who was on her way to the director’s office by the time Raquel was already fumbling for her keys inside her bag. 

“There you are,” Crystal said, nudging her superior's arm. “I heard Monique’s taking over again tonight.”

The associate director nodded while pulling the keys from the bag. “Yes, she will.”

“Good for her. She’s been giving advice to one of the field reporters who kept on complaining about always having to cover the smallest news stories.”

They shared recoiling chuckles while standing aside to give space for a bunch of interns who brought in sealed equipment in the elevator. 

“Did she tell them what I’ve taught her?” Raquel leaned in to ask, scrunching her nose. 

Crystal frowned. “What have you taught her that I don’t know about?” 

She turned her back at her subordinate and luxuriously lifted a shoulder. “There’s no such thing as a small story,” she said suggestively, raising her eyebrows. 

“Makes a lot of sense. I’ll make sure to take that down, Miss Murillo.”

The elevator settled still as soon Crystal got to her floor, leaving her with a tiny wave of farewell. 

After that, Raquel finally drove to the school to pick up Paula. She got disappointed when the parking space was full, so she had to walk from the adjacent street. She shouldn’t have emptied the can of beer earlier, but she had to admit that it helped her cope up with her load—that is, if she ignored the fact that it was unethical of her. And now the only problem left was to find a way to stop herself from taking a nap while looking after Paula. 

Upon crossing the street, she yelped when she almost bumped into a bunch of kids playing hide and seek at the schoolyard and smiled when she spotted their daughter eating her a cookie in the lobby. 

Paula ran to her mother’s arms as soon as she spun her head in her direction. 

“Mommy!” 

As she knelt down to give her an embrace, Raquel’s heartfelt lighter and bearable. Being with her little girl, seeing her happy and giddy, and having all the freedom to do anything she wanted to do without work interfering with her decisions. It swept her away for a passing minute. She knew this wouldn’t last long as there would be times when she could barely see Paula throughout the day so she wished for the ability to grip this moment to last longer than it should. 

They pulled away from the hug then Paula finished her cookie with a giggle. “Mommy, you came!”

“Of course, sweetie. I’ve missed picking you up here.” Raquel stood up and grabbed her daughter’s backpack. “Let’s get going.”

As they ambled outside, she noticed the little girl squinting behind her, then to the sidewalks and the parking lot. When Paula couldn’t seem to find what she was looking for, she frowned and looked up to her mom. 

“Where’s Daddy? I don’t want him late to our storybook reading.”

Raquel halted by the front gate as she was taken back. Of course, she would look for him. They haven’t picked her up from school together for a while. 

“Sweetie, it’s not yet nighttime. Maybe he will come home later after he finishes his work.”

“Maybe? But he promised!”

“I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s quite busy with his show. Don’t you like seeing his name when you watch the television?”

The little girl pursed her lips and pouted. “Do we get to see his name there again just like we see yours in the news every day?”

“Of course! Do you also want to see him talk in the news?”

Paula nodded, but her dejection was still clear on her face. 

“That’s why he’s working so hard, but I promise he will show up tonight. Is that alright, baby?”

“Alright, Mom,” she replied weakly. 

Raquel bent down to kiss her forehead and led her across the street into the car. 

  
  


...

  
  


_One. Two. Three–_

“Smile, everyone!” 

A flash commenced in front of Sergio, his co-producer, the head of the advertising group, and the channel’s executive director. 

Just another milestone for the company; a contract that came into terms. They broke off from their formalities and shook hands as Dominique continued her documentation with the camera. 

The conference room was crowded with a lot of people Sergio knew but initially refused to interact with, but of course, formalities came first before his social selectiveness. It irked him that he would sometimes have to be overwhelmed with meeting people. Right now, he wanted to digress his whole body from the room. An unsettling feeling landed on his shoulders and spread itself throughout his nerves. 

“How long will this take?” he whispered to Monica as he took his seat, but she was too busy talking to Mr. Manuel’s subordinates to even pay attention to him. He was even more uneasy with the surroundings when they started serving them pasta and drinks. That meant they would have to stay longer.

He was starving, but Raquel probably had already cooked at home and he needed to go home early so they could talk and he could read Paula to sleep. Now how would he properly refuse the food that they have served just to acknowledge formality around these big-time media personalities? 

Monica was finally left alone, and so he hesitantly tapped her shoulder in the hopes of assurance. 

She turned to him as she waited for what he was going to say. 

He took his time to look around and check if anyone was listening. Thankfully, they were all in the middle of hushed conversations and toasts. “Is it okay if I go now? I thought this would only last an hour.”

“Go ask Ms. Townsend, but I don’t think she’ll let you.”

This would cause him a headache. As much as he wanted to make things work out for his show, he also wanted things to get better with his family. It sucked that he had to be in this position. 

“Why won’t she let me? It’s...it’s a family emergency.”

Suddenly, Monica’s eyes were filled with concern. “Is everything alright with Raquel and Paula?”

“No, it’s not like that.” Sergio took a deep breath and thumbed his forehead. “It’s a family bonding and they’re waiting for me at home. I can’t just ignore my plans tonight just for this.”

She sighed in relief and leaned forward. “Oh, I understand. Maybe you can-”

“Sergio Marquina!” 

They both turned around to Mr. Manuel’s proud smile from the rear of the conference room. With his appearance, there was no way anyone wouldn’t submit themselves to his attention. He was tall and intimidating, with a wine glass in his hand and dignity that no one else could afford.

“Why don’t you join us in this corner with Ms. Townsend? I would like to hear from the core of the show that I’m investing big-time promotions in.” 

Monica nudged Sergio by the elbow. She knew it was impossible to refuse it.

“What am I going to do now?” he asked under his breath, still in awe of the man’s presence. Right now, he would hate having to talk to people—but not with him. He was literally an integral part of the show’s success. He couldn’t just refuse to at least have a word or more with him. 

“Maybe a chit-chat won’t hurt,” Monica replied, and he couldn’t do anything else but nod. 

“Fine. It won’t take long.” 

“Good luck.” 

_Please show up_.

It kept ringing his ears as he stood and picked up his wine glass, putting on a modest grin on his face. He conditioned himself for just an ounce of socialization, with the hopes of making it as limited as possible just so he could show up to dinner with Raquel. 

Little did he know that he was too late and that he left his phone on the table—just a missed call from his wife, nothing much. 

  
  


…

  
  


As Raquel scanned their daughter’s bookcase, Sergio had already missed ten calls from her. The texts didn’t work, either. 

_He’s supposed to be here before Paula sleeps and now, what?_

She grunted rested her fists against either of her hips. She couldn’t stand the way Paula dangled her legs repeatedly at the corner of the bed as her heels hit the hardwood which made knocking sounds all over the room—not that it was irritating, but she didn’t have to act this way if her dad only knew how to manage his time with whatever the hell he had to do at work.

Raquel was losing her patience. She had cooked Paula’s favorite food, baked her muffins, and let her play her phone longer than she should have just to compensate. But knowing Sergio was nowhere to be found tonight didn’t make their little girl feel better. 

“What do you want to read?” she asked her, putting on a cheerful smile. 

Paula lifted her feet and crawled to settle herself on the pillows. “What would Daddy pick?” 

Raquel looked back at the shelf, then at Paula who was already tucked under the covers. It was past eight, anyway. There was no point to wait for him as she should be sleeping already. 

“Daddy would pick something magical,” she said, pulling the spine of a classic fairytale and showing it to her. “What about this one?”

“The magic wouldn’t be complete without him, though,” the little girl said, yawning. “You said that magic only consists of three elements to be complete: Mommy, Daddy, and me.” 

She vividly remembered that moment. It was when Paula had just turned six and wondered how she could acquire such magic that she had seen in fairytales, hence her mom’s answer. She had believed that ever since and had promised to cling to it for life. 

“It looks like we’re not reading something magical tonight, then,” Raquel said regretfully. 

“Mom, can you hug me to sleep instead?” 

She held up the book as she approached the bed. “What about this?”

Paula shook her head. “No book. Daddy’s not here.”

“Alright, no book.” Her mom placed it on the nightstand and joined her in bed with a sigh. “I’m sorry daddy can’t join us tonight.”

“But will he join us tomorrow?”

“I hope he does, sweetie.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Mommy. I love you.”

Raquel pulled the covers over her daughter’s shoulder, kissed her forehead, draped her arm over her tummy. “Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered in her ear.

As soon as Paula was asleep, she got up to let her coffee go cold and tasteless as she waited, waited, and waited…but it seemed as if her husband had taken his time at work. She wished that whatever made him forget about their dinner would face a dubious portion at fate. 

  
  


...

  
  


With shameful confidence, Sergio knew the mishandling of his own time had a hand in it. And so he drove as quickly as he would lash out all of his words and ideas into a blank document, desperately trying to make it out of the traffic. 

“Come on,” he muttered with gritted teeth. There was a stretch of city lights, luxury cars, and cabs ahead. It didn’t have to be this sluggish if he didn’t let his pride take over and talk about his whole writing process that took a whole hour to be finished. He was lucky because he had clutched his audience’s interest even if they were the kind of people that had bigger things going in their lives for a mere _writer._ But in Sergio’s case, he had written bigger stories than their entire lives. Maybe that’s what made them patiently listen. 

And at what cost? His time with Raquel and Paula, the two people that make up his world. By the time he reached their home, he was filled with so much guilt and was shaken with trepidation. He had no idea what was waiting on the other side of the front door, but he only had to 

There are decisions that are made unconstrained for self-satisfaction, the kind that eats you alive with a _fleeting_ honor for yourself. But just as expected, it fades away once you return to everything that you have forsaken.

It was no different for Sergio this time. 

  
  


…

  
  


Sergio arrived and spotted nothing but the nifty air in the living room, and beyond it was a faint smell of risotto from the kitchen. He prayed that it wasn't too late to get his hopes up, that he would find Raquel patiently waiting for him.

Only then did he realize that it was too much to ask of her—the kitchen that he came upon was just as empty as a broken jar of trust. There was his share of risotto sitting alone in the table that was neatly set, right beside an empty mug of what smelled like black coffee. He found leftover muffins and a plate with traces of cream and rice on the sink, waiting to be washed clean. 

Maybe she was in Paula’s room, singing her a lullaby or reading her a book, so he took his time to be quiet on his way. There was no sign of Raquel, it was only their daughter sleeping soundly. 

Sergio let himself in, shrouded with darkness and the glowing stars that freckled the ceiling. He stared at Paula’s sleeping figure. She was heart-warming and precious, so much like her mother. He hoped their little girl would grow up as wonderful as she was, in her own way. He picked up the book on the nightstand and scanned for the page that he was looking for. 

“The most beautiful things in the world must be felt with the heart,” he read to her even if he knew well enough that she couldn’t hear it. But with the deepest prayers, those words would trickle into her dreams. 

That was the least that he could do to make up for his absence. Finally, he kissed Paula goodnight and tiptoed out of the room. 

Through the half-light of the hallway, he dreaded what he would find in their room. It could be Raquel either in deep derangement or in deep sleep. 

It took him a full minute to quietly open the door and find the room empty. Again. The room was full of their belongings, which surely wasn’t the kind of empty that he had found. It was just that everything was empty without her. 

He spun his head around for a sign of her until he heard sprinkles of water dripping from the bathroom. 

  
  


…

  
  


“Can I join you?” 

Raquel turned off the shower and whirled around to set aside the shower curtain. _Oh._ Her husband has stripped off his clothes, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his eyes while hers roamed throughout his body. 

“You didn’t show up,” she spat while turning the shower back on. 

He joined her as his feet faltered with every step on the slippery floor. He stood against her back, and she looked down on her feet to let out everything that had been piling up inside her. 

“I’m sorry,” Sergio whispered, sending shivers down her spine, partly from the cold, partly from how excruciating his voice sounded against the hollow of her heart. 

She turned around and looked him straight in the eye. What she expected to see was remorse reflecting on them—but there was also fatigue. The way he carried himself showed so much of it. His posture wasn’t as rigid and tall as it used to be, his hands were slightly trembling, and his skin was pale. 

She wanted to ask him if he was okay but he was making it impossible for her to show that she still cared and that she still wanted to destroy the walls they had built in between them. 

“Paula was waiting for you.” 

He looked down in painful remorse. “I know and I’m sorry.”

She faintly went back to the shameful moment of having to eat alone, the rest of the table deprived of company, the hope she had felt that he would come in time, and looking like a _fucking idiot_ to even believe that they could fix this overnight. 

But considering that she was hungover and ironically sleepy from the caffeine in her body, she had grown tired of fighting to mend their broken bond. After all, she was human. She wasn’t always his pillar when his walls would start to break down. She wasn’t always the river that would appease his thirst. She wasn’t always his strength. She was her own shell of a woman who has grown exhausted from the burden of his distress, the mother that would fill his empty space for their daughter. 

“I was waiting for you,” she said, her voice breaking as tears shredded her clear sight. 

This wasn’t about his goddamn absences anymore, it was about how his instability had affected her and how she carried half of his troubles while she had to carry her own at the same time. 

It felt heavy. Everything was heavy. But she didn’t dare give up on finding ways to mend him without compromising her state of mind. She _wouldn’t_ dare. 

Because loved him. She painfully and inarguably loved him. 

Basked in the trickling of warm water, naked and bare, she still surrendered to his arms where a tide of passion rose. He brushed her arm with his fingers as she buried her face into his chest. Their bodies trembled from being undraped, but they fit together as perfect as imperfection could be. 

“I’m sorry, my love. I’m so, so sorry,” he breathed, holding her close and not letting go. 

There was a ghost that, instead of haunting them, made them wish for it not to fade into the light. It was the ghost of how they were, an apparition of the understanding that they shared not so long ago. _U_ _ntroubled and blissful._

Raquel wanted to wander through his soul as she searched for his heart, which was beating right where the side of her head was rested. 

“Sergio, why did we have to come to this point?” 

Her voice was soft and weak but it was able to tear his heart open, baring all the love he was yet to give for eternity. 

“I’m sorry,” he said one last time, and he regretted when he heard her sobbing. She held on tighter until she was weaker in his arms and they had to let go. 

_They’re trying. Sometimes, they can’t even meet halfway..._

_But they’re trying._


End file.
